


Dragons of Ice and Fire

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Dayne Lives, BAMF Catelyn, BAMF Jon Snow, BAMF Ned Stark, BAMF Rhaenys Targaryen, Bamf Daenerys, Ben does not go to The Wall, Benjen does something useful in the Game, Blackfyre (Sword), Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Sister (Sword), Dawn (Sword), Dragon Eggs, Dragons, F/F, F/M, Feel-good, Feel-good fix-it fic, Fix-It, High Valyrian (ASoIaF), House Targaryen, Ice (sword), Jaime Lannister Redemption, Jon Snow Knows Something...eventually, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow's Name is Jaehaerys, Jon does not go to The Wall, LOTS of Scheming, Multi, Ned Stark Lives, Ned Stark can play the Game, Original House Greystark characters, Original House Stark characters - Freeform, Pact of Ice and Fire, Polygamy, R Plus L Equals J, Redeemed Jaime Lannister, Rhaenys Targaryen Lives, Stark-Martell Aliance, Targaryen Loyalist North, Targaryen Restoration, Targs are fireproof, Threesome - F/F/M, Valyria, Valyrian Gods, Varys is a Loyalist but hides it well, and Jon is nickname for Jaehaerys, direwolves, lots of Targ babies later, the dragon has three heads
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2020-11-07 16:43:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 35
Words: 60,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20820515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ned promised Lyanna, to protect her child. After seeing the bloodbath left by Tywin Lannister, he has a fallout with Robert. Realizing that Robert had changed, Ned makes moves to place the Righful King on the Iron Throne and he finds an unlikely ally in Dorne.And so, the Game of Thrones begins anew...ABANDONNED, UP FOR ADOPTION!





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay... this had been in my mind since forever, after reading fanfics, where Rhaenys lives... I am new at fanfic writing, so constructive criticism is welcome. No flames, please.  
Enjoy

The crypts of Winterfell were cold and dark place- only half a dozen torches were scattered around the newest of the tombs: Lyanna Stark, Brandon Stark, Rickard Stark, Lyarra Stark...

  
In front of the newest sculpture of Lyanna, stood the new Lord of Winterfell, Eddard ‚Ned‘ Stark. He had a sad look in his eyes, his face already marred by the months of war he fought alongside Robert Baratheon. And he’d fought for the wrong reasons... Next to Eddard, stood his younger brother and his only remaining sibling- Benjen.

  
„I want to join the Night’s Watch.“ Benjen spoke, his voice a mere whisper, yet it echoed loudly around them.

  
Ned turned his gaze from the sculpture of their sister. „Why is that?“

  
„It’s my fault. It’s my fault Lya’s dead. I knew and I hadn’t even tried to stop her, from leaving with the Silver Prince.“

  
Ned shook his head. „Lyanna had too much wolf’s blood. No one could have stopped her. If there are people to blame, then those are father, the Mad King and myself.“ he sighed. „I knew of Robert’s bad habits and I still believed Lyanna would be happy with him. But Lyanna knew, what I was not willing to see- that Robert would have never stayed in her bed for long.“

  
„You’re not to blame.“ Benjen said.

  
Ned looked at his brother with a look of finality. „Then, neither you are.“ there was a heartbeat of silence, both lost in thought. „I need you here, Benjen. You have to help me make the North strong and protect Jon.“

  
Benjen swallowed. „He’s Lya’s son, isn’t he?“

  
Ned gave a slow nod. „Yes, he is. The trueborn son of Lyanna and Rhaegar. They’d wed on the Isle of Faces, in front of the Old Gods. Since Rhaegar had wed Elia in front of the Seven, both marriages were equally valid. Especially since both Queen Rhaella and Princess Elia signed papers of approval.“

  
Benjen’s breath hitched. „Gods be good. Who were the witnesses?“

  
„Princess Elia, Sers Oswell, Gerold, and Arthur. And the septon, of course.“ Ned said in a low tone.

  
„Why would you need me Ned?“ asked Benjen, voice still quiet. „Jon has his own Kingsguard in Arthur.“

  
„Aye. But we need to make the North strong Benjen. This war had changed Robert in a way... I fear to think of. What man becomes a kinslayer in such a manner? His grandmother was a Targaryen Princess!“

  
Benjen swallowed audibly, his eyes darting to another sculpture, past that of their parents. „So were ours. Our grandmother was a Targaryen too.“ there was a quiet moment again. „What’s his name? I presume you named him Jon.“

  
Ned gave a small chuckle. „No- Jon is his nickname, as Lya said. She had agreed with the Prince, that their child will have a Valyrian name as befitting any child of the Iron Throne, but a matching northern nickname. That nickname is Jon. His birth name is Jaehaerys, after his Targaryen great-grandfather.“

  
Benjen nodded, a thoughtful look passing his features. „Good name. Both, who had the name, were good kings.“

  
„Will you help me, Benjen?“

  
Their eyes met for a second, blue on grey. „What do you need me to do, brother?“

  
Ned gave a tiny frown. „You’d need to marry, with time. We’d need to repair Moat Cailin- the more cut off we are, the safer I will feel. But first... I’ll need you to go to Essos.“

  
Benjen blinked in surprise. „I think, I understand, the part of your plan about Moat Cailin... but why do you need me to go to Essos?“

  
„Specifically, Myr.“ he said. „I want you to bring home the Wild Wolves. We’ll need any and all help, we can get.“

  
Benjen looked unsure and Ned feared, that his brother would say no. There were times, like this when he feared he was messing things up. He was not born to be Lord... Brandon should have had the North.

  
„The Wild Wolves...“

  
„The pack must stay together if we want to survive.“ Ned said.

  
„Very well, Ned. I’ll bring them home... but I can tell, there’s something you’re not telling me.“

  
Ned glanced at him, then shook his head. „Not now. I’ll tell you, once you make it back from Essos.“

  
Ben nodded and they turned to walk out of the crypts, plans and possibilities were going trough their heads. They were unsure of it all, but failure was not an opinion. They would not let their sister’s only child come to harm, no matter what.

  
They were wolves and wolves always protected their own.


	2. Arthur I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur Dayne and his thoughts...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are welcome.  
Enjoy :)

Arthur decided, he didn’t like being away from his home.

Well, he could deal with the half-a-continent distance, if only it wasn’t so _cold_. He was Dornish, for the Seven’s sake!

But, looking at the baby currently in his arms, it was worth it. Little Jaehaerys (or Jon, he’d have to get used to calling him _Jon)_ refused to fall asleep after Wylla had fed him. He hadn’t cried as loud, as the Stark heir, Robb- the child howled like a true wolf, his voice even heard from the other room-, but the quiet wails and sobs were even worse. So he had no other choice, but to try and quiet him down.

Not even a moon old and the child was like Rhaegar already. _‚He’s all Rhaegar anyways...‘_

The child had indigo eyes- the perfect mix of the Stark grey and Rhaegar’s lavender and there were already tiny whips of hair on his head, all fair and silvery, like a pureblood Targaryen’s. These obvious signs, that Arthur could not ignore. And each time he looked at the infant king, he was glad, that they had come to an agreement with Ned Stark- admittedly, save for Howland Reed, none of Stark’s companions made it back.

He only wished, he could have stayed in Starfall, but seeing the look on Eddard Stark, made him stay quiet. He should not have even entertained the idea of staying in his home- he had had a plan, but after Brandon shamed his sister, he was sure Eddard would not agree to it. It didn’t matter anyway, though. By the time they’d made it to Starfall, Ashara was dead.

It was only a stroke of luck, that no one knew she had a stillborn daughter and so, they could pass Lyanna’s son, as Ashara’s child. No father had been mentioned, but since Ned had the child, everyone assumed he was the father.

But it was fine with Arthur. There was not a soul who didn’t know, how honorable Ned Stark was- so when he didn’t outright name the mother, no one protested. Save for the new Lady Stark, of course.

The frosty look Catelyn Tully-Stark had given him when they arrived, made Arthur think, that she would fit well, into this cold place. Not to mention, she hadn’t allowed Ned near herself or their child, for the past three days, since they’d arrived. Not that Ned Stark’s life was any concern to him.

What he had taken in stride, was when Benjen came and told him of Ned’s plan of making the North stronger and safer.

„And why would he do that, so readily?“ Arthur had asked him then. „I thought he was friends with the Usurper.“

Benjen Stark looked as fierce, as the wolf on his House banner. „Not with a man, who slays his kin and lets childrens‘ deaths go so easily. Besides, Ser, if my young nephew was to die by Robert’s hand, we’d follow soon enough. Princess Vaella, the only child of Prince Daeron, was our grandmother. If someone were to remember that, House Stark would be in grave danger.“ he frowned, his face turning sad. „I would have wanted a normal life for my nephew, but... as loath as I am to admit, we would only be safe with a Targaryen on the Throne. And who better, than the child of our beloved sister?“

That had been a shook- while in Dorne, Princess Lyanna had mentioned, that she had Targaryen ancestors, but he hadn’t known it was so recent- that she was a Princess’ granddaughter.

He sighed and chased the thoughts away- he was in the room alone once more, as he had been most of the time since they’d arrived. Only Wylla came and went to check on the baby and feed him when needed. Of course, Ned had come to visit, but he was mostly preoccupied with his plans for the North.

Plans, he’d said, that his grandmother had laid out after her husband had died. Plans, that had never come to fruition, as Rickard Stark had southron ambitions, that had eventually torn apart the family and resulted in the Rebellion.

The thoughts of it left him feeling empty, but there was still hope- little Jaehaerys was here, where he could protect him. Princess Rhaenys (thanks to some _loyalist_, as Varys had put it), was alive and with his sworn brothers. Probably already somewhere in Essos with Viserys and his sibling.

And when he wasn’t thinking of Gerold and Oswell, he was thinking about Jaime. Bright, promising Jaime Lannister, who’d driven his golden sword into Aerys (and, as Ned said, was even sitting on the Iron Throne, when he rode in). He wondered what had possessed Jaime to break his sacred wovs and kill the King. True, Aerys had been mad- even Queen Rhaella had said as much,- but madness was simply no reason to kill a man. They had known for a while, that Aerys was mad...

_‚It doesn’t matter now. I will just have to protect Rhaegar’s son and wait for the right time.‘_

And he will wait, for he had the time. For now. And when the time was right, Baratheon and Lannister both will woe the day, they’d risen against the dragons. He’d make sure of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed I have simply written "sibling", for Viserys. Here, I thought, that Arthur did not get any info on the Queen after him and his sword brothers stayed with Lyanna, while she went. So he doesn't know, that the Queen had a daughter. Well, not yet.


	3. Benjen I & Jaime I

**Benjen I**

If he had thought the long hours on the ship horrible, then the heat of the eastern continent was Hell itself. He was dressed as loosely, as possible, yet sweat was pouring down his back.

_'Is this what Ned felt like in Dorne?' _

At least he had a clear destination in mind. The captain of the merchant ship he'd taken had been nice enough to help him out.

Now, his eyes roamed the busy streets of Myr, looking for the mansion. He'd been told, that the captain of the Wild Wolves had property here and even if he was busy, someone there would be able to help him.

Once he found it, he knocked and waited. A few minutes later a pretty lady opened the door. She had the fair hair of the scions of Valyria and the steely, gray eyes of Starks.

"Greetings, traveller. My name is Serena Greystark. How may I help you?"

Benjen nodded in greeting. "Good day, My Lady. I'm Benjen Stark of Winterfell and I'm looking for Rodrick Greystark. I have an offer for him, from the Lord Paramount."

Serena raised an eyebrow in interest, before opening the door wider. "Come in." then she turned away from him, shouting into the house. "Farher, we have a visitor from Westeros!"

Benjen heard footsteps and soon, a rally, broad-shouldered man stood in front of him. He looked like a true Stark with his short,d brown hair and grey eyes.

"Welcome, traveller. What brings you to my doorstep?"

"Greetings, Rodrick. I'm Benjen Stark, brother of the Lord of Winterfell and we have an offer for you, which would include coming home."

Rodrick looked intriguted. "Come and eat with us. You can share the offer over a good wine."

* * *

**Jaime I**

The way his sister arrived in King's Landing was a victory march.

Actually, marrying Robert was a sort-of-victory for her. (Even if she despised Robert with every fibre of her body.)

She'd always wanted to be Queen and her dream had been shattered, when Rhaegar and Aerys both denied the mirrage their farher had offered the Crown.

The ceremony was also extravagant, showing the people just how wealthy House Lannister was.

But Jaime himself could not share his sister's happiness. The memory of the bodies in front of the Throne, still haunted him- the way they had been wrapped in Lannister red, to hide all the blood.

He still remembered the days, when he'd been assigned, as Princess Rhaenys' guard- Aerys had probably wanted to slight him, but he didn't care. He enjoyed the little girl's childlish innocence and inteligence, not yet tainted by the schemes of court.

And little Aegon... Barely a year old, never having the chance to live.

He'd never forgive his farher, for what he'd done and he won't ever forget how Robert used the bodies, as stepstones towards the throne.

_'Barsh, foolish bastard. No wonder Lyanna Stark went with the Prince instead. But you'll never see it- that She hated you, as much, as Cersei does. Good luck at surviving her schemes, Baratheon, because I surely won't save you_.'

With a disgusted frown on his face, he turned away.


	4. Eddard I

He sat in his solar, thinking on what to do next. Ben was still in Essos, trying to bring the Wild Wolves home. Catelyn,-loving, dutiful Catelyn- ran Winterfell for the time being, as she’d noticed, that he was too distracted with something else, to concern himself with the current matters.

He glanced down at the papers, written a long time ago, by his grandmother. She’d planned the reconstruction of Moat Cailin- which he already started, by sending a group there and asking them to clear the area of the rubble and clean it, as much, as possible.

Now he was looking at his lands’ finances- it was mostly fine, but the numbers were still concerning. A good part of the North’s fortune would be consumed by the reconstructions and the starting of a fleet.

He frowned. He saw the logic behind the plans- having a fleet would be good for trade and they could finally shake off the goddamn Ironborn- but once more, it would cost a fortune. Trade could eventually bring back all the expenses, but for that, he’d need to secure good contracts with the Free Cities. _‘Grandmother, why aren’t you here? You’ve been better at these things, even if the Realm thought you were a simple-minded fool…’_

Looking at the map he wondered where to… _‘If we left a smaller part of the fleet near Bear Island at Sea Dragon Point, that could be good against the Ironborn. Leaving the trader ships near White Harbor might be a bit too close to the South…’_

The Dreadfort and the Weeping Waters could be a solution, but he wouldn’t trust Roose Bolton with his dogs, let alone half-a-fleet of ships.

There was a knock on the door and he looked up. “Enter!”

The door opened and his wife stepped in. She still didn’t get used to the cold, if the furs were anything to go by- but then again, neither had Arthur. Both were of the south and _this_ what was comfortably warm for him was probably meant freezing to both.

“Is everything alright, Catelyn?” he asked, concern lacing his tone. They were newly married yes, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care for her.

She nodded. “Yes. I could be asking the same from you. I barely saw you these days, since Benjen had left.”

Ned eyed her for a second. How much he could trust her with? Probably not the part about Jon, but this wasn’t so life-threatening. For all she knew this will be a trading fleet and not one for war. “I was thinking.” he gestured at the map. “We were speaking with Ben and… I guess it would be good if we could be a bit more independent from the South.”

Catelyn glanced curiously at the map. “I see. What is your plan, exactly?”

“My grandmother had planned on establishing a fleet. It would have been good to keep the Ironborn at bay and for trading. Tough, she died before she could even start it and my father had completely different ideas. I for one, really appreciate the idea of a fleet. I was wondering where to station one, tough.”

Catelyn sat opposite him and peered at the map closer. “Don’t you have ships at White Harbour?”

He nodded. “A small number of ships for fishing and trading. Lord Manderly can only provide those near him, not the entire North. And those are not for fighting, if we ever want to keep the Ironborn at bay. Besides, I think it’s a bit too down sought. We need it closer to us, in case of emergencies.”

Catelyn threw him a speculative look- doubt flashing in her blue eyes,- before looking back at the map. Ned sat back and waited- maybe she had a good idea. He wouldn’t put her down, for being a woman- his grandmother and sister were both strong and sharp.

“What of the Dreadfort? It’s close enough to the Weeping Waters and the open sea…”

Ned sighed. “I had the same idea, but… I wouldn’t trust Roose Bolton with a pack of dogs, let alone a fleet. The Karstarks I would trust, but they are too far inland to be of any help… useless…”

“Useless what, Ned?” she asked.

Ned rubbed his face. He’d been thinking of granting the repaired Sea Dragon Point to Rodrick Greystark, but at this point, he trusted the foreigner more, than Bolton, with how much bad blood the two Houses had between them.

“Tell me, would you help me make the North strong and safe for our family?”

Catelyn’s eyes steeled over in a second. “Of course. Anything for little Robb or any other child we might have.”

“Then, I’d need you to come with me on a tour around the Houses. For meeting them- I could use that to see how loyal Bolton is, which is not much, if I had to make a guess. The moment we find evidence, I can have him removed, but not until then.”

Catelyn’s blue eyes went wide. “You’d do that to a bannerman?”

Ned snorted. “No, I would not. Well, I will never do something like that, to those, who are _loyal_. But I think Bolton’s only loyal to himself- the northern equal of Tywin Lannister, just crueler.”

Catelyn shivered and he had a feeling it wasn’t because of the cold. “Let’s say you find evidence. Who you’d put into his place? The keep is at a strategic point, if I understand you well, especially if you want a feet.”

Ned smiled. “Benjen’s bringing home some stray cousins- I think, at this point, a complete stranger would be a better choice, than Bolton. But of course, that doesn’t mean I would not keep an eye on them…”

“So a fleet… I think, if I write to my father, he’d be eager to help, with whatever he can. That would make trade between the two regions faster.”

“That would be appreciated,” he said with a tiny smile, as he stood up. Catelyn did too and they walked out of the solar together. “Have you seen Ser Arthur somewhere?”

Catelyn’s eyes flashed with anger and Ned almost winced. A part of him wished, he could tell her, that nothing was, as she thought, but she didn’t trust her fully- not yet. Maybe in a few years, he would tell her.

“No.” she said in a clipped tone. Ned sighed inwardly and nodded, going separate ways.

He found Arthur in the nursery, reading a book, eyes occasionally flickering over to tiny, sleeping Jon. He gave a small chuckle. “He’s not going to grow wings and fly away, Ser.”

Arthur looked up from his book, then shrugged. “Probably not- well, logically, it’s very unlikely. But I can’t help it. It’s been too soon and I can’t help, but worry.”

Ned sighed. He understood well, from where the Dornishman was coming. Glancing at the sleeping bundle, he understood why- when awake, the chid’s Valyrian features were all too visible. He wondered for how long would Westeros believe, that tiny Jon was a Sand or Snow…

Tough, Arthur had been adamant, that it should be Sand, as he’d been born in Dorne. (Not that it mattered much, as they both knew it was but a farce. Regardless of what they said, the child would always be a Targaryen.)

Only now, that he closed the door, did he notice how hot the room was. It was almost uncomfortable, but Arthur- used to much hotter climate, only seemed to relish in the heat. Strangely enough, not even Jon seemed to notice as he slept.

“What brings you here, though?”

Ned leaned against the wall, his gaze trailing the sleeping child. Despite having mostly his father’s colours, he could see a lot of Lyanna in him, as well. “We were toying with the idea of a trading fleet with Benjen. Of course, we simply do not have the resources yet and the matter of Moat Cailin is more pressing. Maybe in a few years. Do you think the Dornish would be willing to trade?”

Arthur looked thoughtful and then shrugged. “A good offer and my brother would surely agree. I don’t know, how Prince Doran would react, but he’s not one to pass up a good offer either.”

Ned hummed. “At least, it is possible. Good. Now, if you excuse me, I would have to get ready for Benjen’s arrival. He should be here in a week or so. And I still have to deal with my bannermen…” he muttered under his breath.

The fleet might never even get done, but he would surely get rid of Roose Bolton. He’d told his brother, that he wanted a stronger and safer North. The first step to stronger, was Moat Cailin, without a doubt.

_‘And the first step to a safer home would be killing Bolton.’_ he thought. Stroking the tiny whisp of fair hair on his nephew’s head, Ned left the room, thinking about the Dreadfort.


	5. Catelyn I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot sleep..... help!

**Two years later:**

Two years. For two years she sat by and endured queitly, as the bastard boy slept and lived in the same nursery as her own child Robb. Ned had a heir from her, why would he keep the dornish lowborn? She cared not, that the boy’s mother might as well be Ashara Dayne- the boy would never be a Dayne and much less a Stark.

She strode trough the now-familiar corridors of the great keep, towards her lord husband’s solar. The boy would have to go- enough was enough. Anger burned in her veins, like poison, but she stopped as she heard the muffled voices of Arthur and her husband from inside. (She couldn’t help, but notice as with each passing day, the Dornishman got friendlier and friendlier with her husband and that made her stomach churn. What if her Robb would be passed over, as the Heir?)

Their voices were faint and she could make out no words. Glancing around to make sure no one was around, she inched closer to the door, pressing herself against it.

“Have you gotten news from Oswell?” asked her husband.

“Aye. They seem to be fairing well, tough Gerold had caught some illness. Tough Darry seemed sure that he’d get trough it. The wetnurese taken from Dragonstone does a wonderful job with the Princesses, tough ocassionally Rhaenys would mention she misses her brother or less frequently, you.”

“Me?” her husband asked, obvously just as surprised, as she was. What in the name of the Seven was going on here? “That’s endearing, considering our blood relations are very loose, trough Targaryen ancestry. But then again, she had called Lyanna her mother, as well.”

Catelyn froze. _‘Rhaenys? Lyanna? What have you gotten yourself into, Ned?’_ And why were they speaking of Targaryens? That was skirting on treason, considering the current regime.

“I’m worried, tough.” Ned siad with a massive sigh. “With each passing day, Jon looks more and more, like Rhaegar. The more he grows, the more the resemblance will be seen.”

“Don’t even finish that, Ned. You’re speaking of my best friend’s son, who’s also your nephew and by all laws of gods, the rightful king.” Arthur’s voice was tense and Catelyn herself forgot how to breath.

Then, the red-hot anger she felt on her way here, returned. But this time, it wasn’t directed at the tiny bundle in the nursery, but instead at her husband. She all but threw the door open, glaring at Ned and ignoring the Kingsguard- because, she guessed, that was _why_ Arthur was here.

_Kingsguard is for life._ That much even she knew.

“Eddard Stark.” she hissed in a frosty tone, stepping into the room and slamming the door behind her. Both men looked at her, wide-eyed. “Why haven’t you told me, Jon was your nephew?!”

Now both looked like as if she was the Stranger personified. Ned sallowed. “Cat, you have to understand I just did it to protect us all… I promised Lyanna…”

“You could have told me!” she said, crossing her arms, still galring. “_Family. Duty. Honour_. He is my family too. Duty binds us to him, as part of the family. And raising him, protecting him is the honourable thing. _You could have told me.”_

Ned seemed even more tired, than she’d ever seen him. “I’m sorry, Cat.”

She sighed and looked Arthur in the eyes, who was quietly observing. She curtsied to him. “I believe, I owe you an apology, Ser. I was obviously making your work all the more tiring, for no reason at all.”

The usually jovial Dornishman’s eyes seemed ready to pick her apart. She felt the shiver running down her spine. “I would merely ask you to treat him fairly, as he grows up.”

Catelyn looked back at Ned. “What’s his name?”

“Jaehaerys Targaryen.” he said quietly.

Her eyes widened. “So it _wasn’t_ a kidnapping at all.”

“Princess Elia had agreed to it and the Queen also supported the decision.” Arthur added. Catelyn’s shoulders sagged. All that death and carnage for nothing.

“You can’t tell anyone, Catelyn.” Ned said, his voice ringing with steely finality.

“I won’t.” she said, looking him in the eyes. “I’ll take care of him, too. You could have told me.” she added in a queit whisper.

Suddenly, she felt a flood of guilt for ever wishing a babe dead- one, whose parents were no longer alive and Ned was risking his own life, to keep him safe.

“What was that part about Rhaenys?” she asked. The question seemed to catch them off guard, before Ned just waved at another chair, next to Arthur’s.

“Sit down, Cat. This will take a long while.” she raised an eyebrow in interest, but quietly seated herself.

Once she was sitting, Ned launched into the story of Harrenhall- with an ocassional addition from Arthur,- and all, that came afterwards. The supposed kidnapping, Lyanna’s mirrage and then, how he found her in Dorne in a bed of blood. How he found little, four-year-old Rhaenys there in the tower, worried for her ‘mother’.

“Princess Rhaenys had called your sister her mother?” she asked, shooked and touched.

“She had.” said Arthur. “Elia called Lyanna a sister, after she married Rhaegar. Rhaenys took it, that she had another mother. Lyanna had been shooked to hear that from the child, but Elia, Rhaegar and the Queen were all happy, that Rhaenys accepted her.”

“And all those months, when she’d been kidnapped?”

“Spent on Dragonstone.” said Arthur. “Then, when Robert’s movements reached Rhaegar’s ears, Elia urged to have Lyanna hidden in Dorne, while she travels back to King’s Landing for Aegon. She lef the baby with a wet nurse. She travelled back and Varys started helping us arrange taking Elia away. But by then, it was too late to get them out of the city. Varys had Rhaenys smuggled out on Rhaegar’s urging and Elia agreed. She was sure they’d make it out fine, but she wanted her daughter safe.”

Catelyn bit her lip, her mind working furiously. “But… he already had an Heir from Elia…”

Arthur shook his head. “No. The baby, who was presented as Prince Aegon, was in fact, one of the last Backfyres, from the line of Maelys, the Monstrous, I believe. Elia’s health was fragile, so the second birth could have killed her. Queen Rhaella came up with the idea to fake it, to save Elia from Aerys’ wrath. He never liked Elia and we all feared what he would do, if he found out Elia could never give an heir to Rhaegar. Plus, Rhaella wanted Rhaegar on the Throne, for Aerys’ madness was getting too wild. The Turney of Harrenhall would have been a plan to overthrow him, but Aerys caught wind of it and attended.”

Catelyn’s mouth fell open as she made the connections. A conspiracy by son and mother against the father. A conspiracy to save the Dragon’s line and Lyanna Stark had been chosen. She chose to partake and Robrt Baratheon started a war over it. Started a war over a girl, who did not love him.

“The Seven have mercy.” she choked. “What are you planning, Ned?”

“Placing the Dragons where they belong. But for now, safely raising the one under my roof.” her husband answered simply, as if he was merely commenting on the weather.

Catelyn closed her eyes for a second and let her thoughts swirl around. It all made sense now. The reconstruction of Moat Cailin… the bringing of the Wild Wolves. Ned was preparing the North for when they had to stand behind the True King.

“Why?”

“I could say, it’s for Lya’s sake, but that’s not the only thing.” he said quietly.

She raised an eyebrow. “Then what else?”

“I have Targaryen blood too, you know.” he added quietly. “My grandmother, Princess Vaella Targaryen was the only child of Prince Daeron. The granddaugther of King Maekar I. She had been briefly considered to take the Throne in 233, but since they thought her simple-minded, the idea was dismissed. Actually, it worked well for her, as the simple-mindedness was in fact, a disguise- she never liked the Game. After the Tragedy of Sumerhall, everyone thought her dead. But she only attended briefly. She left Summerhall before it ignited. After hearing what happened, she took it as an opportunity to live a simpler life.” Ned explained quietly. “She hid and took a different name, travelling Westeros. When she met my grandfather, she chose to reveal to King Jaehaerys, that she was alive. She made him promise not to reveal she married. She and King Jaehaerys agreed, that if she didn’t call for the Pact of Ice and Fire to be fulfilled, once her child was born, she could remain where she was. King Jaehaerys said, that for all he knew, a Northern Lord’s daghter had married the Lord of Winterfell.” Ned leaned back. “She never left the North again and since we were separate enough, no one ever bothered to see, whom had my grandfather married.”

Catelyn’s eyes went wide at that. She’d never known her husband had Targaryen blood… (Briefly, she wondered what this Pact of Ice and Fire was, but she dismissed it for now. There were more pressing matters to deal with.)

“After what happed to Elia, we even feared making a noise about it. Robert became a kinslayer, as his own grandmother had been a Targaryen- Princess Rhaelle. There was no guarantee, that he would not listen to Tywin and have us all killed, too.”

Catelyn felt like the shook had turned her bones to jelly. She couldn’t move.

“I didn’t know what you’d say, if I told you, Jon was a Targaryen. I wasn’t sure, how you or your father would react, if my ancestry came to light. It... wasn’t safe.”

“It still isn’t.” Arthur said and Catelyn glanced at him. “What you know, is treason.”

She nodded slowly. “True. But something, that can have Robb and Jon killed as well. I will not tell a soul. I swear that on the Old Gods and the New.”

Once her words died away, both men seemed to relax a little. She felt the fire in her coming alive again- but this was different from the previous flames of anger.

“He’ll be safe with me, too.” she swore, looking both men in the eyes. “He’s my nephew and he’ll be safe. Jon, Robb… both of them.”

Arthur gave a relived sigh, tough she could see it in his eyes, that he was grgeatful. Turning to her husband, she found the most brilliant of smile on his face, his shoulders seeming to be lighter.

_“Family. Duty. Honor.”_ she said quietly.

Yes, she’d protect them all.


	6. Benjen II

**289 AC**

He watched the children play in the yard- Robb, Jon and his own son, Cregan.

Thinking of being a father was still strange to him, but it was not unwelcome- he’d finally taken his seat at Moat Cailin two years ago with Serena. The Boltons had been taken out a few months after the Greystarks‘ arrival and it had been decided, that little Cregan would eventually inherit the Lordship and lands of the now-renamed ‚Whisperfort‘. When Ned protested, that Cregan should get Moat Cailin, Rodrick just laughed and said, there would eventually be more ‚Greaystark pups‘, so a second-born son could inherit Moat Cailin.

Benjen wanted to sink into the ground after that sentence and Serena herself strode out of Ned’s solar red-faced and glaring at her father. Ned tough only seemed amused and agreed to the idea.

He was currently in Winterfell, helping Catelyn manage the North, as Ned was away- having answered Robert’s call when Balon Greyjoy took up his crown of salt and chose to rebel. Robert, of course, called the banners and so, Ned had to go. Tough in all honesty he would have probably liked to drag Robert from the Iron Throne himself, before throwing him and the old squid into the sea.

_‚It’s not time yet.‘_ he told himself.

Jon was only eight, but according to Arthur, already a spitting image of his father. He had curling silver hair with two strands framing his face, that were dark brown. His eyes were dark, as Lyanna’s had been, full of fire, but violet, another distinctive trait, to mark his ancestry.

Robb on the other hand, looked almost a spitting image of his mother- auburn hair and the bright blue eyes of House Tully, with his father’s height already showing. But then again, Jon was the shortest of the three, so even Cregan was taller (this, of course, annoyed Jon to no end).

Cregan, his pride and joy, had his grandmother’s lilac eyes and the typical, dark hair of Starks, also about the same height, as Robb.

But, without question, Jon was the best in these games of fight, his lessons with Arthur having started last year. Catelyn- who was keeping a promise, as he’d been told- doted on Jon, too and had been glaring daggers at Arthur for hours when the knight said, he’d start his training early. That helped her settle and it seemed the Lords and Ladies respected her for it.

Northmen never had those strict beliefs about bastards, as the Andals. Actually, just like the Valyrians, they were rather lenient, taking care of their own, within boundaries, of course. (Only the Dornish were so careless.) No one forgot how bastards, who’d been given too much and rebelled against their Lords- may those be the Blackfyres or the Greystarks. So, when she accepted Jon, the Lords and Ladies saw, that she was adapting to their culture and became more welcoming.

Today, Catelyn and Serena (who’d gone through similar suspicion, despite her northern ancestry,) were welcomed with smiles, as if they were born here.

He was drawn from his musings when the yard below fell quiet. He turned his attention downwards, to see the boys panting and taking their wooden swords away. Cregan and Robb laughed and joked between each other, while Jon trailed behind them, quietly. The sight made him frown.

While Catelyn accepted him and cared for him, like she did for Robb, it didn’t stop the whispers and looks. A Snow, who looked almost naught like his ‚father‘- and Arthur’s presence didn’t help much either. Despite their best efforts, Benjen knew, that Jon felt somewhat of an outsider.

Arthur spent the most time with him and noted, that he was as quiet and melancholic, like his father. Beneath the melancholy was a free spirit- like a wild wolf, with a dragon’s fire in his veins,- but all the looks and whispers squashed it. Ben knew, that he was a good fighter- he’s seen the training the Kingsguard put his trough- but he never let it show, fearing what others may think if he continuously bested his ‚trueborn sibling‘.

_‚Accepting for sure.‘_ he thought, glaring down at a woman, who threw a look at Jon. It seemed, the people remembered too well, what sort of problems bastards could cause and they thought, that Jon would do it, as he was older, than Robb. _‚They think, he’d want the North and that we’re making a mistake in raising him here.‘_

If only they knew... Jon will have much more to take care of, than the North, when the time was right.

„Ben?“ called a silky voice from behind.

Benjen turned away from the yard to find his wife wrapped in thick, dark furs, that made her silvery hair stand out even more. „Is something wrong?“

He shook his head. „No, but I swear, if I hear the whisperings any longer, I will cut off someone’s fingers.“

Serena’s grey eyes flashed. „Fools. They just can’t see how much he cares for us all. He’d make a good lord with his skills and caring nature.“

Benjen smiled at that. _‚The qualities of a good king too, my dear.‘_ Serena seemed to notice his smile and raised an eyebrow. „What?“

Ben glanced around- no one was nearby. „Come to the Lord’s solar.“ he said, offering his arm. She looked confused,b linked her arm to his and they walked towards the solar, which usually Ned occupied. He hoped his brother would be back from the fight soon and would be back alive.

Once the solar’s door closed behind them, Ben leaned against it. He gestured for her to sit down, but she declined. „What’s it, Ben?“

„I’m pretty sure you remember, that years ago I went seeking you in hopes of making the North stronger. Tough, I never gave you a reason.“

She looked confused, but nodded anyway. „Aye, I remember.“

„Well, Jon’s the reason.“ he said with a sigh.

She raised an eyebrow. „Jon? Why would Jon be the reason and how exactly?“

„He’s the trueborn son of my sister, Lyanna and the Targaryen Prince, Rhaegar. She wasn’t kidnapped, but went with him in defiance to our father.“

For a second, she looked confused, before understanding flashed in her eyes. „Targaryen. _King_.“

„Aye.“

Her nose wrinkled up in the cute way, he liked, as always when she was thinking. Then, soft chuckles left her lips, soon turning into clear laughter. „You’ve been hiding a tiny cousin of mine, under the Usurper’s nose all these years?“

Ben nodded. „You could say... but what do you mean cousin?“

Her eyes flashed and a sharp grin appeared on her face. „My mother had been Aelea Belaerys. The Belaerys were an old Dragonlord family, like the Targaryens and the Velaryons. The three families had always been closely knit and despite the loose blood ties, they always considered one another, as cousins.“

Ben’s eyes widened. „I... really?“

She chuckled. „Aye. It seems, I’ll be taking my little nephew under my wing and I’ll be teaching him what it means to be descended from the Dragonlords of old.“

Ben’s eyes widened in panic. „He doesn’t know and he’s still too young to know! You can’t tell him!“

She shook her head. „You know, dear, I can be subtle, when I want. I won’t have to tell him, who he is, to teach him some of our ways. He seems to be intelligent, always hungry for knowledge, but also likes adventures. He can’t go to Essos, but I can tell him about it and I can tell him about my family and teach him the Old Ways of Valyria, even without telling him, he’s king.“

Ben thought about it for long, before sighing. „Well, he’d have to start learning High Valyrian in a few years anyway. When he does, along with the Targaryen history, that all Lords have to know... I think if he asks you something, you can steer him towards what you want to teach him. He wouldn’t really notice, I suppose- he’d be just happy, that someone understands him and helps him.“ There was a heartbeat of silence before he caught something from her earlier words. „Wait... Valyrian gods?“

She huffed and rolled her eyes. „I keep to my mother’s Dragon Gods, dear. Have you not noticed?“

„Well, I did notice you never come about the Godswood, but I assumed you’d follow the Seven.“ he shrugged. „I never bothered to ask, because it doesn’t matter, as long as you are content.“

„Well, now you know.“ she said, pecking him on the cheek. „Thank you, for giving me back a piece of my home. Where Dragonlords and Wolves reside together, I can truly feel at home.“

„You’re welcome, Serena.“

They left the solar side by side, both feeling lighter at heart. _The pack survives._

As long, as they worked together, nothing bad could happen and – Ben guessed, that eventually, he might even see his nephew sitting upon Aegon’s Throne.


	7. Jaime II & Eddard II

**Jaime II**

The feast, celebrating the victory of the Royalist fleet- or more, like the _Lannister_ fleet,- over the Ironborn was huge. Unnecessarily so, in his opinion._ ‚You’re wasting a mountain of money over a war, that didn’t even last a year.‘_

Robert was drunk, laughing loudly on a joke or whatnot from someone Jaime didn’t bother to identify. Cersei was cold, like the Wall and her face might as well have been carved from stone. It was clear to him, that she wanted to be anywhere else, but next to Robert, when he was drunk. (Not to mention, that he was eyeing a serving wench, all the while _supposedly_ conversing with that knight.)

Looking around, he could not find his father anywhere. However, his eyes stopped on Eddard Stark for a brief moment, who looked even more uncomfortable and stoic, than his sister- which, he supposed was a feat in itself.

Then, he caught sight of Tywin, closely followed by Kevan, who was carrying a wooden box inlaid with gold. Jaime raised an eyebrow in a dreadful interest. What was this now?

„Ah, Lord Tywin!“ bellowed the King- well, _Usurper_. Jaime could –and would– never think of Robert, as king. That had been Rhaegar, but Rhaegar was dead.

His father bowed, but Jaime could see the flash in his green eyes, as he looked towards Arryn. Once upon a time, he’d been the Hand of the King and even now, he coveted the position. For what... he never understood- power was fleeting and dangerous, if in the wrong hands. Aerys had been the proof of it- the power had eventually turned him mad, as it had many others.

„Your Grace, in the name of House Lannister, I present you the traitor.“ Tywin spoke.

Kevan opened the box and Jaime needed all his willpower to stay upright. On a Lannister-red cushion was the cut off head of Victorian Greyjoy, the neck clotted with blood, glassy eyes staring into nothingness.

Robert bellowed something- some praise- to his father, but Jaime could not listen. Looking at the head, was like staring into the face of the Stranger. A shiver ran down his spine. He’d known his father wasn’t completely _alright_ in the head- that he was, just as bloodthirsty, as Aerys had been,- but this was past everything he ever guessed his father was capable of.

It seemed, the Greyjoy’s had almost ended up, like the Reynes and the Tarbecks- good thing, that Arryn’s head was in the right place. He hadn’t allowed Robert to kill Balon’s children- instead, he took Balon’s daughter, as a ward, while Stark did the same with his son.

He couldn’t focus, not really. What reached him, was that Robert congratulated his father and was all but patting him on the shoulder for a work well done. And all the other bastards were celebrating with them, as if a head wasn’t on the High Table.

Jaime noted with some relief, that Stark looked as repulsed, as he felt. However, he didn’t move from his spot, but he could see, that the Lord of Winterfell was determined to ignore Robert for the rest of his time there.

The first minute it was appropriate, Stark and his small retinue stood up, thanking Robert for his hospitality (most were too drunk to notice... but was the Quiet Wolf’s tone dripping deadly sarcasm?) and left swiftly.

For once, Jaime envied him. He would have liked to flee the feast as well, but under no circumstances could a Kingsguard abandon his spot.

_‚And what an honor to serve you, Robert. I killed a madman all those years ago, to save a city from being turned into ash, by wildfire and now, I have to stand by and watch, as another madman ruins the Realm.‘_

Sometimes he wondered if it would have been better, to let Aerys live...

* * *

**Eddard II**

They rode quietly down the Kingsroad, all of them repulsed by what they’d witnessed. He couldn’t believe Robert _relished_ in that sight...

It sent shivers down his spine. _‚What sort of man have you turned into, Robert?‘_

„Are you alright, Ned?“

Ned snapped out of his thoughts and looked to his right, where Howland Reed was riding, the others behind them. He shook his head. „I’m anything, but alright, Howland. My foster brother... Robert’s not the man I used to know. He would have never let this happen and now he was even congratulating Tywin. The crown has changed him.“

There was a heartbeat of silence before Howland answered.

„Or, perhaps it showed, what kind of man he truly is.“

Ned shivered once more, despite the hot air. He would have liked to deny it- that Robert could not be like this,- but he didn’t say anything. He could not convince Howland, that Robert was a good man when he himself no longer believed in it.


	8. Arthur II & Benjen III

**Arthur II**

When Ned rode through the main gate of Winterfell- after months of absence-, Arthur could immediately tell, that something had changed in the solemn man. Something in his eyes reminded Arthur of Queen Rhaella, before she’d been broken by Aerys’ madness. Could it be his Targaryen blood showing for some reason?

He dismounted and greeted his family, tough Arthur could see, that his mind was elsewhere. His suspicions were proven true when Ned waved at him to follow. He did so, casting one last glance at Jon, who was sneaking towards the Godswood. He knew, that Ned didn’t like the children going there, but if Jon went alone, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem- he was quiet enough ‘not to disturb the gods’, as Ned always said.

He hurried through the familiar corridors, grateful for the extra protection of the walls against the cold. Even after all these years, he wasn’t exactly used to the northern climate.

Once he was inside, he closed the door and turned- Ned was sitting at his desk, Ben, Catelyn and Serena lingering nearby. Arthur just leaned against the door, looking into Ned’s grey eyes. “What’s that look, Stark?”

Ned shook his head. “I’m starting to think, the madness comes with that goddamn throne.” he growled out.

Arthur perked up at that. For the usually calm Eddard Stark’s voice to be so dark, something serious must have happened. He was about to ask when Ned noticed Serena right next to Benjen.

“Ben, she shouldn’t…”

“I know, Ned.” Serena said, her tone steely. “I know, who Jon is.”

Arthur tenses at that, hand already reaching for _Dawn_\- he’d been in the Godswood with his sword and his thoughts for a while. Plus, Jon had wanted to see it anyway, so Arthur had shown him, though he didn’t touch it, just marveled it from afar, as if it was made of glass and would shatter at a tiny touch. “Now, _those_ words are dangerous, Lady Greystark.”

She glanced at him and rolled her eyes. “I would not sell out a fellow Valyrian, _Rhoynar_.”

Arthur’s eyebrows rose. “Valyrain?”

She huffed. “My mother was a Belaerys- an ally of House Targaryen, before the Doom. Unlike many, we didn’t flee, as they had. Some had survived, so our line continued. He’s my kin, trough both of his parents.”

Arthur blinked. That was… unexpected. “We’re getting off-topic,” Ned said, his tone impatient, drawing their attention back to himself.

“So… what happened, brother?” asked Benjen, probably mostly to disrupt the tension lingering between him and Serena. Arthur huffed and shifted his gaze back to Ned.

“Robert’s lost his mind.” he sighed. “Tywin beheaded Victorian Greyjoy and offered the head, as a gift. Robert just laughed and patted the Old Lion on the back,” he growled, his voice dropping lower and lower, with each word spoken.

Arthur wasn’t surprised- Baratheon had never been a sane type. Probably all that drinking and whoring had damaged his head. (But, somewhere in the back of his mind, a tiny voice whispered _Aerys_ and he feared, what would become of the Realm if the Usurper oaf turned out just like him.)

“That’s…” Catelyn couldn’t even form a sentence, it seemed.

“We can’t trust him, Ned.” Benjen said, his voice halfway between pleading and cautioning. There was silence. It was heavy with something Arthur couldn’t comprehend, but that was probably because he never trusted Baratheon the way the Starks had. _‘Now, they don’t trust him either.’_

It was a silence, that carried the possibility of his goal coming true- seeing Rhaegar’s heir, as King.

Ned’s eyes said it all, but his words were even more shooking. “Time to see, how much we can change the trading fleet, to fit for war, if need be and be as subtle about it, as possible.”

* * *

**Benjen III**

He’d never seen Ned like this before.

He remembered Lyanna saying, that Ned was a wolf, who showed his fangs but never bit anyone. Well, right now, it was different- Ned was ready to bite _anyone_, who tried harming their family and that scared him more, than anything.

He’d called Maege Mormont, Rodrick Greystark and Breon Farrest- Lord of Sea Dragon Point, former second-in-command of the Wild Wolves- for some discussions. Ben wasn’t there, but he knew what was the topic- they’d gone over it last night, at least thrice. Ned wanted ideas from the three to improve the fleet- for more trade and for warfare, shall it be needed.

It was hard to believe, but Ned was actually changing- fortifying-, the North, for when Jon would be ready to take his throne. He never knew, that Ned- who hated the southron game of words and deceit,- could be so _good_ at playing the Game of Thrones. (_The best? _The best was, that no one knew, that they were actually playing, so they had an advantage.)

Shaking his head, he headed out from the grounds of the Keep. He’d see his nephew one last time, before he rode back to Moat Cailin with his family- they couldn’t stay so far from it, for so long. The point of it was naught, then.

Outside, he found Jon and Ser Arthur, training. Jon, for someone so young, was already talented and was absorbing anything new taught to him, like a sponge.

He was like that with every possible subject, which sort of surprised Benjen. Robb, who knew he’d one be a Lord, hated learning his numbers and letters. Jon lived for a sword and breathed books. He wasn’t fun of numbers either, but he never complained. That, he supposed, was Prince Rhaegar in him. Lyanna would have torn the books and papers to shreds.

Jon noticed him almost immediately. He ducked Arthur’s next swing and locked their swords during the next, nodding his head to the side. Arthur’s gaze turned and he nodded in greeting. Benjen did the same. The Kingsguard let his practice blade drop and nodded. Jon smiled and tossed his own to the ground, running up to him.

Ben wasn’t ready for the force, with which Jon would throw himself. “Urg.” he groaned, wrapping his arms around his beloved nephew. “We’re leaving with Serena and Cregan.”

Jon drew away and gave him a sad, wounded-puppy look. “Already? But I like that you’re here. Now even father’s home.”

Ben winced. No matter how many times he’d heard it from him, it always felt bad, that Jon was calling Ned his father. Discreetly, he glanced at Arthur. The Dornishman, as most of the time around Jon, was indifferent, his eyes sharp and vigilant, yet he saw the sadness was there too, for a second. It seemed, Arthur wanted to tell Jon, as much, as he did.

Jon hugged him again and murmured something into his furs. Ben squatted down to be closer to Jon. “What did you say?”

Jon looked up at him with big, sad violet eyes. “Can you tell me about my mother?”

The question was like a knife to his heart. Jon was smart enough to understand, that while Catelyn took care of him, she wasn’t his mother, nor was Serena, despite her similar pale hair. Neither Arthur or Ned had ever told him anything, so he was asking the last person, whom he trusted, would tell.

“When you’re older.”

Jon’s face turned dark- ‘brooding’, as Arthur usually called it- at the dismissal. “But I’m already eight! I’m big enough!”

Ben shook his head, messing his hair a bit. “Wait a few more years, Jon. Ned will tell you- or Arthur when the time is right.”

Jon blinked at that, his eyes widening and wiping back towards Arthur. “You knew my mother?”

Arthur gave a slow nod, his eyes flashing sadly. That was, when Ben realised, that Arthur- despite mentioning Lyanna only, as ‘the Princess’- was close to her too, as a friend. “Aye, Yo… Jon. I knew her.”

Ben gave the Dornishman a look, as he pulled Jon into a hug. He knew very well, that Arthur had almost called Jon, by his title.

“When you’re older.” Ben said, voice firmer this time, but still gentle. Jon sighed and took a few steps back.

“Alright, uncle.”

The quiet, disappointed tone almost broke him. But Arthur and his brother worked too long and too hard to keep Jon’s parentage a secret, only for this to ruin it now. There will come the time when Jon will know.

He was sure of it.


	9. Jon (Jaehaerys) I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And finally, little Jon...

**293 AC**

Jon sneaked trough the yard, towards the crypts. He was not supposed to go down- not after father had found him and Robb playing down there hide and seek a few days ago. Still, he wanted to have a closer look at the chest he’d found (he hadn’t even told Robb yet he found it since he wasn’t sure what was in it).

He pushed the heavy door open and was relieved to find a torch there from his father’s last visit- he often came to visit the tombs of Aunt Lyanna and Uncle Brandon, Lady Catelyn had told him.

Thinking of the red-haired woman made his heart hurt- she loved him and cared for him, but the day, when he’d found out she was not his mother would forever be etched into his mind. The day, when he understood what it meant to have a different name- to be _Jon Snow_.

That was the first and the last day he’d called her ‘mother’. Never once did he dare to utter the word afterward. Theon did say, that being a bastard was a stain on a Lord’s name. What if Lady Catelyn would one day chose to throw him out? He was, after all, a reminder, that her husband didn’t keep the vows made in front of the Gods.

As he grabbed the torch and pulled it from the holder, he closed the door, so no one would notice him here. He shivered at the cold- down here, it was worse, then even outside. He carefully lifted it from its place and walked down the slippery steps, towards the tomb, that had caught his attention.

He stopped in front of the carved figure of a man, a stone direwolf laying by his feet. He shivered at the sight of the beast- the wolves always seemed alive to him. Alive and judging for being here and _not_ being a Stark. But he was too curious about the chest he’d found, to concern himself with the wolves. The name beneath the statue was formed with letters, that almost resembled runes.

_Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell._

He passed the statue and crouched in front of the hole he found in the wall opposite the tomb- he was surprised no one had noticed it before. But, adults never looked down and the hole was hidden by the tomb and the statue. Had he not tried to hide here, he would have never found it. (Something had drawn him here, nudging him in this direction, where it was _safe_.) It had worked, as he had won the game, too.

He put down his torch and reached into the hole and pulled. It was heavier than he thought, so it cost him several tries to pull it out. The wood sliding on the stone was so loud in the silence, that he was afraid someone might hear. Once the chest was out of the hole, he stopped to catch his breath and to listen, if anyone was coming.

There were no steps and no voices. No one had heard anything.

The chest was made of dark wood and on the top, he saw the Stark direwolf craved into it- strangely enough, right next to, what he remembered to be the sigil of the past dynasty. The three-headed dragon of House Targaryen. It was beautiful.

Carefully, he tried opening the chest. For first, it didn’t budge. The second time he tried using more force and it finally opened. The box’s hinges creaked a bit but opened. He turned and grabbed the torch again, to see better. He found black silks with what seemed to be a scroll in the middle. He reached out and unrolled it. The writing on it was elegant and unfamiliar.

** _Dear Stark,_ **

** _If you had found this box by accident, while maintaining your crypts, please do not read further and place it back, where it was found. If you found the box by following a pull or maybe dreams, then please read further._ **

Jon blinked at those words. _‘A pull?’_ he mused. He was not really a Stark, but he _had_ felt a sort of pull… so he supposed, he could read further. He unrolled it further and continued.

** _Inside, you will find my gift to you and Your House, for your loyalty to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, in her time of need. There you will find three dragon eggs, of the newest clutch from our dragons. If the Pact of Ice and Fire had been fulfilled, as we’d agreed, then your Targaryen blood shall guide you in hatching the eggs and later allow you to bond with the hatchlings._ **

** _If it had not been completed, then I humbly apologise for Our Houses’ misgrievings to you. In this case, you can sell the eggs for a hefty amount of gold or, by showing this letter to the current Targaryen King, you can ask the Crown to fulfill their promise._ **

** _Sincerely,_ **

** _Prince Jacaerys Velaryon_**

** _If you are a Targaryen, do not fear the fire. For fire does not burn, those whose blood is fire itself._ **

His mouth fell open. There… were dragon eggs in the chest? He placed the letter down, shaking his head. (The last sentence had been confusing, really.) He pulled away the silks and indeed, just as the letters stated he found three objects, with different colours, covered in scales.

One was silver with swirls and dots of indigo. The second was gold with orange and the last was black with blood-red patterns. Each was big, so he could only hold them one by one if he ever tried…

No. Right now, he couldn’t take them away. He couldn’t lift the chest on his own and he didn’t dare to tell anyone, what he’d just found. The Targaryen was a name not to be spoken, that much he remembered clearly, from Maester Luwin’s lessons.

Maybe later, when he could… or perhaps, he could sneak the eggs out, one by one and hide them somewhere, where only he could find them?

_‘I’d have to leave the chest here… and make three turns, to get them into my room…’_ Carefully, he lifted out the black egg and closed the box, hiding it back, where he’d found it. Once more, as he pushed the chest, it made a loud noise and he waited with bated breath if anyone had heard.

When no one came, he grabbed the torch and the egg, hiding it under his furs and sneaked out of the crypts. It would seem that he would not sleep tomorrow or the day after…

* * *

After two more sleepless nights, finally, all three eggs were in his room. And he had even found a spot to hide them- underneath his bed, tightly wrapped in furs no one would look for the eggs. They were close but safe.

He sat onto his bed, after checking them once more and just in time, as a knock came. Blinking tiredly, he stood up and dragged himself to the door, to open it. To his surprise, it was Lady Catelyn in the door, looking slightly worried.

“Lady Catelyn.” he greeted quietly.

“May I come in, Jon?” she asked, Jon nodded and stepped aside to let her in. His room was smaller than his trueborn siblings’, but it was just as comfortable, if not more so, for him. It was his little lair, where he could be alone if he didn’t want to listen to Theon’s boasting or arrogance.

He closed the door and turned towards her. “You look worried, my lady.” he said respectfully. He’d long ago learned, that while Lady Catelyn herself had nothing against him, the rest of Winterfell wasn’t so nice. Tough, as long, as he was respectful with her –at least, he’d never give them the satisfaction of calling his father ‘Lord Stark’,- they would mostly leave him alone.

Her blue eyes roamed over him and he shivered- she’d always been decent, kind to him even, but that look…

“I am worried,” she stated, her voice like steel. “As the Lady of the Keep, it’s my responsibility to see to all inhabitants. And you, Jon, have barely shown yourself these past days. Even Ser Arthur noted how distracted and slow you are. And I’d heard Theon speaking rudely- even Sansa retaliated. You just walked away and I _know_, that you never do that. You have too much of a temper for that.”

The comment on his temper made his cheeks burn in embarrassment. Robb always said he had the temper of a dragon- that he didn’t need to see dragon bones or alive dragons, because Jon was there, so he could imagine how grumpy or pissed a dragon could have been.

He shook his head. “It’s nothing. I just couldn’t sleep these past few nights.”

Lady Catelyn gave him an interested look, then she gestured at his bed. “Climb into your bed.” she said.

Jon glanced at her confused, but did, as she’d asked. He walked to his bed and climbed under his bed, pulling the furs close- nights were always chilly and he hated them. To his surprise, she sat on the edge of his bed and started singing.

Her voice was soft, quiet and very calming. He heard the first part of the unfamiliar song, but then, he slowly drifted off to sleep.

_He dreamed of dragons dancing in the sky and childrens’ laughter filling his ears, as he stood in an unfamiliar, yet beautiful twilight godswood, shadows dancing around them. Arthur smiling at him from the side, where he stood vigilantly, _Dawn_ point down on the ground, ready for use. On the other side, stood a blonde knight with green eyes, dressed in the exact same armour, as Arthur- white and shimmering, made of scales. His own sword, with a hilt of gold and white pointing to the ground, one hand lazily resting on it. The breastplates had a sigil on them, but he couldn’t make it out_

_“We love you, Jae. I hope you know that, right?” came a sweet female voice._

_Looking in that direction, he found the two most beautiful women he’d ever seen, smiling at him, dressed, like two Queens- in garments of red and black. One with hair of liquid-moonlight with lilac eyes, while the other with dark curls with traces of silver, golden skin and dark violet eyes, mirrors of his own. He could tell, that the dark-haired beauty had been the one to speak._

_The laughter grew louder and for a second, he saw two children chasing each other- a girl and a boy, about the same age. The boy had curling silver hair with a dark streak and dark eyes with tanned skin. The girl’s eyes were beautifully mismatched- lilac and grey-, her hair such a light shade of silver, that it looked like the armour of the two knights._

But the morning came and the dream faded away. But, as he recalled the song, he swore, he heard it being sung again, but this time, by the beauty, who’d spoken- the one, who called him ‘Jae’.

But why would he be called as such?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to the song Come Little Children (from the movie Hocus Pocus) while writing the scene where Catelyn sings. So I imagined she sung the first verse of the song to Jon.  
Please leave comments.


	10. Jaime III & Rhaenys I

**Jaime III**

**297 AC**

He didn’t know what to think or feel. Finding out, that his sister’s children- Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen- were bastards, had been shooking enough.

Finding it out, that they were the bastards of _Lancel Lannister_ of all people, made it even worse. How had he not noticed before? Yes, a rift had grown between him and Cersei, after the Sack of King’s Landing, but he never imagined…

But, his sister had always had a twisted, power-hungry mind. Once upon a time, she even tried loving Robert, but after he called her ‘Lyanna’ once, in his drunken haze, it was a lost cause.

Jaime himself felt like gagging Robert, for speaking her name. Lyanna Stark (Targaryen) had never loved him and his sick obsession with her had driven thousands of innocents to their deaths. (Aerys had _deserved_ to die, but Rhaella, Elia and little Aegon did not. They were innocent of Aerys’ crimes.)

Jaime knew, from the beginning, that Robert would never love Cersei. Cersei had tried once, but now she despised Robert, as much, as a Targaryen loyalist. And as a result, all her children were bastards, born of Lancel…

Jaime almost snorted out loud, from his position behind Robert, at the thought. _‘Lancel… sister, you’ve sunk low, to bed someone like him. But then again, anyone would be better, than Robert, right?’_

Not that he cared anything for his sister’s life at this point. He was more concerned with her schemes to get the Iron Throne. He knew well, that she wanted it for herself, to rule, like the Conqueror’s wives had once done- with complete power. (She _conveniently_ ignored the fact, that Visenya and Rhaenys ruled only in Aegon’s absence.)

Jaime knew, that once Robert was gone, Cersei had every chance to rule, if Joffrey sat the Throne too young- she could be his Regent. Once grown, Joffrey would rule on his own, but she would have molded him by then, to be everything she needed him to be.

It was the perfect plan, especially since no one seemed to notice, what was going on. The courtiers were too busy playing their own games.

Good thing his shift was over in a minute or so. Any more of this courtly stupidity to listen to- or surviving a drunken, enraged Robert any longer- and he would surely skewer someone.

Baelish, Jaime had an idea, that he wanted the Throne for himself. Stannis just kept grounding his teeth, brooding on Dragonstone and trying to make Robert see reason occasionally (and failing miserably). Renly kept playing the important Lord from Storm’s End, which annoyed Stannis even more, as Stannis was convinced he should have been the Lord of Storm’s End.

His father… Jaime needed all his willpower not to roll his eyes, whenever Tywin spoke _sweetly_ to Robert- he just wanted more wealth and power, trying to get rid of Jon Arryn, as subtly, as possible, to be the Hand again. (Grand Maester Pycelle was surely his father’s man.)

And Varys… well, at least Varys was a stagnant piece in the game and that set his mind at peace. Not that they spoke too much, but Jaime knew, that secretly, the bald Master of Whispers wanted a Targaryen on the Throne. Jaime, despite knowing where his loyalties lay, always felt uneasy around the perfumed eunuch…

“Ser Jaime.” came a soft voice. Jaime snapped out of his thoughts, his hand flying to his sword in a second, as he whirled around. Behind him, he found just the man he was thinking of.

“Lord Varys.” he greeted calmly. He wondered what the Spider wanted now. And why him?

“Could you spare a moment of your time good Ser?”

Jaime raised a golden eyebrow, but nodded and gestured for the eunuch to lead the way. They walked in silence, as Varys kept leading him through twists and turns, revealing several of the secret tunnels, which were a proof of Maegor’s paranoia.

Once they were away from prying eyes, Varys slowed to walk next to him. “I’ve got news, Ser. The Princess’ had fled from Viserys. Apparently, he’s as mad, as his father.”

Jaime’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying they’re _alone_ out there?”

Varys shook his head, a tiny smile playing at his lips. “No, Ser. I was saying, we will not have problems with another mad Dragon. Apparently, Ned Stark is better at this game, than I would have given him credit for. There was a Northern knight and former Lord- Ser Jorah Mormont- that had escaped the Justice after caught with slaves. Lord Stark had allowed him to go in secret, to seek out the Dragons. My little birds say that he’s been doing his job well, at helping Ser Oswell.”

“Oswell’s still alive?” he asked, relief coursing trough his veins.

Varys frowned. “Barely. Viserys, in his madness, had caught Ser Oswell unaware and almost killed him. Only experience saved him. He locked Viserys in the room and urged the Princess’ to leave. They agreed without too much of a hassle- they seemed to understand, that Viserys…” he trailed off for a second, shaking his head. “Oswell’s still recovering, but Jorah’s appearance settles things a bit.”

Jaime breathed a sigh of relief. “Assasins?”

“Robert ordered Baelish to send a few after them. I sent my own, to kill them before they reached the Princess’.”

Jaime felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. They were fine. There was still a chance.

“And it seems…” Varys continued with a pleased tone, “that our young King is just like his father. The Starks do him good.”

Jaime hummed. “Expect nothing less from Ned Stark, I guess.”

Varys gave him a sidelong glance. “The Queen’s children…”

Jaime snorted. “Cersei is no Queen and we both know it, Varys. And they’re Lancel’s, not Robert’s.”

“She’s playing a dangerous game.”

Jaime made a face. “She always did that. Either everything or nothing. Tough she assumes, that only she can play, so she will be the one to take everything.”

“If someone finds this out… it will be war.”

“It would be war anyway, Varys. The Starks just would need a spark to raise the Targaryen banner over Winterfell. And when the time’s right, I’ll gladly give it to them. Would you not, as well, my lord?”

Varys nodded. “Robert ruins the Realm, only Jon Arryn keeps things intact with all this debt. But for how long, I do know not, Ser.”

They reached the end of the tunnel and Varys pressed a stone. The wall slid apart, revealing the lowest level of the White Sword Tower- just where he was supposed to be.

The eunuch looked him in the eyes. “I would, Ser. I would very gladly give a reason for them.”

“Then, we’re on the same side, Lord Varys,” Jaime said, stepping out of the tunnel, glancing back at the fat man. “On the side of the Dragons.”

Varys nodded, before disappearing in the tunnel. Jaime sighed- why in the name of gods was he, a Kingsguard knight, forced to play the Game? He rubbed his face. _‘I joined- willingly or not- the moment I helped Varys sneak Princess Rhaenys out of here. I helped her and so, I joined. Now I must play.’_

What was that Cersei had told him once?

When you play the Game of Thrones, you win or you die. Jaime had no intention of dying- and he definitely wouldn’t let the Dragons die either.

No more Dragons would die on his watch. Enough was enough- he wouldn’t let his father butcher them. Once, he stood by, when the bodies had been presented. Now, he won’t stand by- there won’t be any more bodies. Rhaenys, Daenerys and their brother would live. (He wished he knew the young King’s name, but not even Varys did.)

And they would rule, one way or another. He had made a promise years ago, to Rhaegar and it will be fulfilled.

_Jaime, please. You’ve to promise me._

_I promise, My Prince. Even if it’s the last thing I do, while alive._

He would make sure of that, even if he had to kill his father (or Cersei) for that.

* * *

**Rhaenys I**

Escaping from Viserys was a relief. Having Ser Jorah here, was a blessing. The Northern knight helped Ser Oswell in his recovery and had even started teaching them how to handle a weapon. She’d been surprised when the Northman offered. Ser Oswell just smiled and encouraged them to practice, if they wished.

So, right now, both her and Dany had small practice blades in hand.

“Vis always said I shouldn’t,” Dany said, looking at her and then at Jorah. “He said, that women didn't fight.”

Ser Jorah shook his head. “He’s wrong, Princess. Plenty of women fight in certain parts of Westeros and some of them are even better than a few men. The women of Dorne and the North are all fighters. And if I recall my history lessons correctly, the Valyrians were also fighters, like Queen Visenya.”

Dany’s eyes flashed and Rhaenys smiled at the childishly excited smile on her lips. “You think I could be like her?”

“Aye, Princess.” Ser Oswell said from his spot, his eyes roaming the surroundings. “You’d be like Queen Visenya and Princess Rhaenys would be like Princess Nymeria. Warriors among the best.”

Seeing Dany happy, made Rhaenys breathe a sigh of relief. After they left Viserys behind she’d been upset for a few days- he’d been mean to her most of the time, but they were still siblings and for all Dany knew, it was just the three of them.

Rhaenys recalled the fuzzy memories of her first and last meeting with her Uncle Ned. The way he’d allowed her to hold tiny Jaehaerys. _‘I wonder if you’re alright, little brother?’_

She’d tried mentioning him once, but after Viserys dismissed her rudely, saying that Aegon was dead. She never even bothered to mention her other brother- her brother by the wild she-wolf, whom both her parents loved. She didn’t even dare mentioning him to Oswell after she heard how rudely Viserys spoke of Lyanna- Lyanna Stark, who’d played with her and told her stories of her home, the North. Tough, by now, she remembered not, what those stories were.

The only thing she remembered, that her mother had told her, that she’d be safe with Lyanna, outside the city. She remembered the strong hands grabbing her and carrying her out of the room, trough a tunnel, but not the rest. Ser Jaime had helped her get away.

Only so that he could later kill her grandfather. All she knew, that her grandfather was not a good man- those horrid memories would always stay with her. Ser Jaime had killed him later, after he helped her flee. In later years, she wondered, why he’d done it, but today it didn’t matter. She was alive- she owed that to Jaime, Uncle Ned, and the two Kingsguard, who took her away from Dorne.

She recalled a fuzzy dream in a Godswood, two Kingsguard watching. Dany walked behind her, but she wasn’t quite there. She remembered seeing the dragons in the sky and the two children. But, most of all, she remembered her little brother- Jaehaerys, who looked almost like a young version of their father, if her memories were correct. There were only small differences, showing his Stark heritage.

“Are you alright, Princess?” Ser Oswell asked.

She shook her head and smiled at Oswell. “I am.” Oswell raised an eyebrow in silent question and she sighed. “If I tell you, you won’t think me mad?”

“I’ll listen and judge afterward, Princess.”

“I had a dream- it started years ago and ever since, it keeps coming back. We’re in a godswood, three living dragons playing above us. Dany and I and we’re both women grown, Queens even. And my brother's there with us. Dany hadn’t quite been there before, but I know, that what I could tell my brother, he’d heard.”

Oswell seemed thoughtful. “Well, I’ve heard of magical dreams in the Targaryen family. Arthur had once said, that maybe even Prince Rhaegar had one or two. And Princess Lyanna did mention the magic of the First Men. That it affected a few, so they had special dreams. And I suppose, the Rhoynar too, had their own forms of magic in the times of Princess Nymeria. Maybe, some sort of magic _does_ exist, that links you to him, even a continent away.”

Rhaenys smiled, feeling a little better. “It was good to see him those few times… but I wish, I could be there with him. To tell him we’re here and he’s not alone.”

Oswell smiled at her encouragingly. “Soon Princess. We know now, that Lord Stark hadn’t forgotten us- Ser Jorah’s presence is proof enough,- and that he’s preparing even today, to bring us all home. He’d made a promise to you, had he not?”

Rhaenys smiled sadly, recalling the deep tone of her northern uncle. “Yes. He promised.”

“He’s an honorable man and he’ll keep his word. We’ll go back to Westeros one day and then, justice will be served.”

Rhaenys nodded, her violet eyes glinting with steel. “It will be served, with Fire and Blood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, one more chapter to go, until Robert rides to Winterfell, to ask Ned to be his new Hand...


	11. Eddard III

_ (three months after Rhaenys’ chapter)_

The last thing he would have expected was a visitor from Dorne. Much less someone like Prince Oberyn Martell. Yet here he was, waiting with his family for the Dornish to ride trough his gate. His eyes swept over his family.

Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran…

“Catelyn, where in the name of the Old Gods is Jon?” he asked.

Catelyn gave him a sidelong glance, just as the Dornish retinue arrived, the orange sigils flapping in the cold, northern wind. “Arthur thought it better to keep him away, for now. He’d been worried, Oberyn might…” she didn’t finish, as there was no time. Nonetheless, Ned understood.

For once, he was glad for Arthur’s cautious nature.

Oberyn dismounted, followed by a woman. Ned stepped forward to greet them. “Prince Oberyn, welcome to Winterfell. I hope your journey had been pleasant and uneventful.”

“Lord Stark.” greeted the Dornishman. “Indeed it was pleasant. My Lord, meet my paramour, Lady Ellaria Sand.”

He saw something flash in the Dornishman’s eyes, but he wouldn’t give Oberyn the satisfaction of backing away. The Northmen were not Andals, to scorn bastards. He smiled a little at her and kissed her hand. “Welcome to the North, My Lady.”

He looked back at the Prince. “To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

A stable boy took the horse and he walked closer. „Greetings, Lord Stark. I came to speak with Arthur, for I bring news from Starfall.“

Ned’s eyebrow barely twitched in interest. „Let us speak of that, after you’ve rested and warmed up. I know well from Arthur, that our climate does no good to those of the southmost lands.“

* * *

Hours later, they sat in the solar, with Arthur leaning almost casually against the wall.

“I can tell, that what you’ve said outside, was not the complete truth, Prince Oberyn. Do tell, what brings you North?”

Oberyn gave a smirk, which set Ned on the edge. “I just want to see him.”

Ned’s whole body tensed at that. He couldn’t be thinking of Jon, right? Despite his worry, he kept a cool demeanor. “See whom exactly?”

“The Targaryen Heir of course. If Rhaenys spoke true, he’s here.”

Now that, was it. Ned rose from his seat, inching closer to _Ice_\- leaned against the wall just a few paces away-, just as Arthur tensed, _Dawn_ drawn in a second. Oberyn tough, strangely enough, remained unmoving at the blatant threat.

“I’m not here to cause harm to anyone, Arthur.” the Dornish Prince said, his gaze turned to the Kingsguard. “I’ve met them a few months ago. Rhaenys told me, how she’d been saved and I know, that the Northman, who saved her just a day later, had been sent by you, Lord Stark,” he said, his gaze turning from Arthur.

Ned forced himself to relax. “Very well, you shall meet him, weaponless of course. No one harms my family. But, I have a feeling, that there’s more to this visit of yours than meeting Jaehaerys.”

Oberyn raised an eyebrow. “Good name, I suppose.” he chuckled. “You’re sharp, Stark. We’d been hearing this and that from the North, ever since the Greyjoy Rebellion. You know, even some in the Free Cities speak the Stark name and my brother told me, that you’re trading with Starfall.” here, he glanced at Arthur.

Arthur just shrugged. “It was- still _is_\- beneficial for both Houses.”

Oberyn nodded. “I am well aware of that. This is the reason, why I came. So that the benefits could be increased for both Dorne and the North.”

Ned was still skeptical. A working trade agreement Dorne-wide would be a massive income… but what if the Martells harmed Jon…?

Oberyn, it seemed, could catch his thoughts. “Before I departed, I promised my niece not to harm your sister’s child, Stark. Any family of Rhaenys’, is my own. She seemed convinced, that the three of them would rule the Seven Kingdoms, like Aegon and his sister-wives. But, to ease your doubts, let us join the two Houses by blood. And so, the two most prosperous regions will support the returning Targaryens, when the time is right.”

Ned hummed. That seemed a very good idea… a trade agreement, if done right, could make both regions rich beyond belief. And an engagement would seal the pact better, than anything.

Ariane was too old for Robb, plus both were the next-in-line to lead their Houses. Sansa, he didn’t think… _‘Well, this could work. I just hope neither will hate me for this.’_

“What of an engagement between Prince Trystane and my younger daughter, Arya? She’s about the same age and I believe she would thrive among the warrior women of the Rhoyne.”

Oberyn seemed to be musing over it, before nodding. “I agree, Lord Stark. What of our trade?”

Ned glanced at his paper, stacked to the side. “We’d need glass in big quantities, for our glasshouses and I would also ask for some of your typical, Dornish spices to be shipped. In exchange, we’d ship silver and other ores, that we mine, along with a few specially made weapons.”

Oberyn nodded. “Good. What sort of weapons are those exactly, Lord Stark?”

Ned smiled and pulled a small dagger from his belt. The blade glinted with blue light in the sun. “As you may know, my uncle, Rodrick Greystark, came back from Essos after a long absence. The Greytarks brought with them the knowledge of the forging of the Valyrian Steel.”

Oberyn’s eyes widened at that.

“However, we do not have dragons or any sort of Valyrian magic, to actually forge the weapons. But, they managed to forge weapons, that are stronger and sharper, than normal ones, even without the magic of dragons. We call it Ice Steel.”

Oberyn reached for the blade and Ned slid it across the table. The Dornishman took a closer look, even touching the blade and allowing it to draw blood. “Good quality, no doubt. Could you also make spears?”

Ned nodded, expecting the question. “If you give us the details of the spears Dorne uses, I’m sure it can be done, with a little experimenting.”

“Then, I believe, Lord Stark, that we have a deal.”

Ned breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s…”

He was cut off, as the door to his solar flew open. It was Catelyn, her eyes full of worry. “Ned?”

Ned stood up, all his muscles tense. “What’s wrong Cat?”

“Jon’s gone. The guards saw him ride out early, but he hadn’t been back since and it’s almost dark.”

Dreed pooled into Ned’s stomach and his gaze wiped over to Arthur, who already sheathed his blade. Lyanna’s voice echoed in his mind, not one bit dulled by the passage of time.

_Promise me, Ned. Promise me._

“Organise a search. I’ll join you soon.”

The Sword of the Morning gave a nod and hurried out of the solar, after his wife. Oberyn watched them leave, before turning back to him. “She doesn’t seem to mind a ‘bastard’ here.”

Ned shook his head. “She knows. He’s a Stark too, as much as a Targaryen, even though he’ll never have my name.”

“Allow me to help, Lord Stark. I have a feeling, if I just sat here, while you were out there looking for him, Rhaenys would have my hide, if she ever found this out.”

Ned chuckled. “She sounds like a dragon alright.”

Oberyn grinned. “A dragon to the bone, with Nymeria’s blood in her. I would not wish to die by her hand, for not helping in finding her brother.”

“Join me then.” he said, gesturing towards the door.

* * *

There had been three search parties dispatched, while himself, Arthur, Catelyn- who refused to stay behind and left Winterfell in Robb’s hands- and Prince Oberyn formed a fourth one, with five dogs to lead them. With each passing second, his dreed grew more. What had driven Jon to leave and not come back? Had something happened to him?

“Stark.” the voice of Oberyn snapped him out of his dark thoughts, turning to him.

“Yes?”

Oberyn pointed a little to their west. “I don’t think fire’s normal in the middle of the forest, especially in cold weather, like this.” True enough, there was a column of dark smoke rising from between the trees.

They all shared a brief glance before the horses were steered in that direction. His strong grip was probably turning his knuckles white under the moleskin gloves. _‘Oh, please, let him be safe. Whatever god is up there, keep him safe.’_

The horses’ hooves kicked up white dust-like snow, that had fallen last night, as they raced against time. If something happened to him, he’d never forgive himself. After what seemed to be a lifetime, they finally made it to the small patch, devoid of the tall trees. In the middle of that patch, was a huge pyre, the flames cracking loudly, like thunder.

And he watched, -his limbs heavy like stones- as Jon, the nephew he raised as a son, walk into it.

_“Jaehaerys!”_ Arthur called, desperate, jumping from his saddle. Ned himself wasn’t even aware enough, to scold the Kingsguard for using the Valyrian name, given to the boy by his parents.

He fumbled to dismount and they all rushed over to the roaring flames. There was no sign of Jon- no movement, no noise at all. It was still, save for the relentless dance of the massive fire.

“Ned_, do something!_” Catelyn snapped, tears streaming down her face. Ned could only pull her close. Jon would never truly be her son, but he knew, that she _cared_. Both Catelyn and Serena tried filling the void for Jon, left by Lyanna- the mother he never had a chance to know.

“Those flames are huge, My Lady.” Oberyn’s voice was strangely distracted. “Even if we put it out now, he’d be dead. If he’s a Targaryen, then at least, give him the respect of letting it burn down completely. They’ve always burned their dead.”

Catelyn’s tears flowed even more. Ned himself felt his eyes sting with unshed tears- and smoke- as he watched the flames. Arthur looked sad and he could already feel self-loathing rolling off of him.

“We never even noticed he was so bad… that he’d want to die. We knew Winterfell didn’t quite treat him fair, but…” his words died away.

Ned felt his throat constrict. “It’s my fault.” he rasped out, looking up at the sky, past the massive trees of the forest. “Forgive me, Lya. Forgive me, Rhaegar. I couldn’t keep your son safe.”

They stood there, for more than and hour, and watched as the flames shrunk more and more until only embers remained.

Catelyn’s tears were, by now, half-frozen on her face, as the descending night turned the air even more frigid. Ned himself felt empty and bitter- bitter at himself for not noticing, that Jon was hurting emotionally. That the pain was great enough, that he thought death was his only escape.

Arthur and Catelyn both started murmuring a prayer to the Seven, meant to part the dead, only to stop mid-sentence, when the pile of ashes _moved_.

Their eyes snapped up and they saw, as Jon rose from the ashes. His clothes had been burned away and his once silver hair was streaked with black and gray from the ashes, his violet eyes alight with a kind of inner fire Ned had never seen. But otherwise, he was unharmed. Unburnt.

And clinging to him were three tiny, scaled creatures of different colours. One was silver-indigo, the second was gold-orange and the last was black and red. Their tiny wings spread out so the scarce light falling on them was coloured by their wings- red, indigo and orange.

The black one roared and soon the other two followed, as Jon stood strong and proud, some dying embers still tangled in his hair.

Ned could barely comprehend his own moves, yet he knelt- along with everyone there- and the words whispered by Arthur and Oberyn soon echoed by himself.

“Long live House Targaryen.”


	12. Jon (Jaehaerys) II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have wi-fi again! So, here's a chapter a bit earlier, than promised. Enjoy.
> 
> Last-minute warning. Lots of OOCness and I'm not one bit sorry, so get ready. But then again, AU usually means, that characters are OOC.

He didn’t quite understand what had driven him, to do what he did. Building the pyre and then walking into the flames, where, by then, the three eggs rested- the eggs, he’d fed with his blood ever since he found them,- it was as if he wasn’t even in control of his own body. (Just like during the nights, when he’d let his wounds bleed over the eggs.)

His clothes burned away fast in the blaze, but the flames, that licked his skin, left no mark- he felt no pain. The heat was only something he welcomed in the cold northern air- turning more biting by the minute. He watched the eggs, as they cracked and one by one, a dragon crawled out- each the colour of their eggs.

He didn’t quite understand how he hatched them- why were creatures so proud and old, showing themselves to _him_,- but as the three crawled onto him, he felt an instant connection. As if… they were _his children_. Once the flames died away, he stood up, wondering what to do now.

And then, he saw the four there, staring at him wide-eyed with an expression of mixed awe, shook and disbelief.

He’d almost forgotten, that they had reached him, just when he stepped onto the pyre. A part of his mind recalled Arthur’s voice, calling out, calling ‘Jaehaerys.’ But… that wasn’t right. _That_ was a Targaryen name and he was no Targaryen.

The dragons roared- their voices were small, and high pitched, but he remembered the stories of old. (One day, these dragons could grow as big, as the Conquerors’, with fire powerful enough to melt even stone.)

But, before he could protest, that no, he was _not_ a Targaryen, he saw them all kneeling. His father, Arthur, Lady Catelyn- and a foreigner, whom he assumed was Prince Oberyn Martell. And they whispered words, that chilled his blood.

“Long live House Targaryen.”

The dragons snuggled closer, only the silver one staying attentive to those present. Then, his family and Oberyn all looked up, but he only had eyes for one.

The expression Eddard Stark wore, was one of weary wonder and resignation. He swallowed all, that he wanted to say and managed to bark out only one word. “Explain.”

* * *

Once the shock wore off, the Lord of Winterfell- he wasn’t sure, if he could think of him, as a _father_\- had handed him his fur cloak. Wrapped tightly in the furs, the tiny dragons still clinging to him, he led them away, giving a clipped explanation, that he’d have to hide the dragons. Strangely enough, he didn’t feel the cold as much, as before. It was as if his blood had turned to fire.

Once they found a suitable cave to hide his dragons in, he settled down and a single look at those present had them all settling down. Once they were settled, Lord Stark spoke.

“I think, being blunt is the best I can offer, at this point,” he said in a low tone. “You’re the son of my sister, Lyanna and Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.”

There was a pause and a snort. “_Wonderful_,” he growled out. “Instead of being a Snow, I’m a Blackfyre? _What a joy!_”

“No, you’re not!” Arthur said, shaking his head furiously. “They were married in front of the Old Gods. On the Isle of Faces, near Harrenhall.”

He looked at Arthur, then at Oberyn with a raised eyebrow. “I’m surprised you hadn’t stuck me down the moment I stepped down from the pyre. Your sister’s dead and…”

Oberyn shook his head. “If there’s someone to blame, it is Baratheon. Elia- as shooking as it might be for you,- had agreed to a second marriage. Since Rhaegar wed Elia in front of the Seven and your mother in front of the Old Gods, both marriages were valid. Plus, I’ve just come from Essos. Rhaenys is alive and as I hear, her life is to be credited to two of the three Kingsguard, who’d been with Lyanna, along with Eddard. Rhaenys spoke of you, as a brother and of Eddard Stark, as an uncle. Any family of hers is also mine. I will do no harm to you.” Something was in the Prince’s tone, that set him on edge, but he shook the feeling away.

And indeed, just as Oberyn said, it was shooking. He closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind and process what the Prince of Dorne had said.

“Why would he take another wife, if he already had children?” he whispered out. It was just too confusing.

“Elia gave him no heir and unlike we Dornish, the Seven Kingdoms don’t accept a woman in a position of power,” Oberyn explained. “Rhaenys told me everything and my brother knows, as well. We will aid you if you wish for the Throne.”

Jon bit his lip. He was no king… he didn’t want to rule. He didn’t even know, what happened…

As if reading his thoughts, his father- no, uncle, if what they said was true- spoke. “My father wanted Lya married to Robert. Robert drunk and whored, even when we were young and I’d been blind to it. I didn’t see, how much she hated Robert. Rhaegar presented a way of escape from the betrothal and she took it. Apparently, it was a clever little plot devised by Queen Rhaella, Rhaegar and Elia, to overthrow Aerys. To give Rhaegar a trueborn heir, while still allowing Rhaenys to grow up a Princess. Rhaegar would have had two wives, like the Conqueror, to ensure the stability of House Targaryen.”

“One of the South and one of the North, so no one could say, one region was favored over another.” Arthur added.

Jon swallowed, his mind slowly connecting the dots. It was a plot, within a plot, it seemed. It sounded so easy, yet it had gone _so wrong_… “What had gone so wrong?”

The three men shared a look, before they launched into the story, each of them adding more and more detail until his head was spinning. They told him of how his parents fell in love, how Princess Elia and Queen Rhaella went behind Aerys’ back, to help the Prince. How- apparently- no letters of Lyanna’s reached her family, resulting in the death of Lords Rickard and Brandon. How the Lannisters sacked the city, after the Royalist forces lost at the Trident, killing Elia, Aegon and the girl the believed to be Rhaenys. How Lyanna had been found in Dorne, with little Rhaenys. (How she had apparently held him- a few hours old- all the way to Starfall and cried when they told her that they would be going on separately.)

He took a few deep breaths. “I’ll just need a while to deal with this.”

All of them nodded, telling him that they’d wait outside until he settled his dragons down before they rode back to the Keep.

_‘The ride back would be a long one.’_ he thought, stroking the golden hatchling, who looked up at him with shining brown eyes.

* * *

Days later-after avoiding everyone-, just before Prince Oberyn was to depart for Dorne, he sought out his fath- no, _uncle_. _‘Gods, it will be long before I get used to this.’_

He found them in the Lord’s solar- Arthur, Oberyn and his uncle. They were obviously discussing something- probably something, that concerned him, now that he knew of his heritage. As he entered, they looked up, their expressions full of dread and interest.

He’d been angry, furious even, but he couldn’t stay that for long. The stories he’d heard of the dead Targaryen children sent shivers down his spine. If not for this lie, he might have died, as well, hours after he was born.

First, he turned to his uncle and gave a small smile. “I could stay angry at you, but it would be no use and I would be ungrateful. You risked the entirety of House Stark, by bringing me here and saving me from the fate of my brother and stepmother.”

He turned to Arthur. “I could stay angry with you, as well, but then again, I’d be disrespecting you and a long line of loyal knights. You’ve come here, to keep your vows, I assume, but somewhere on the way, you’ve become family too.”

Arthur smiled. “He’s been my closest friend, a brother in all but blood. I’m proud of the man you’ve become and I know he’d be too.”

Jon flashed him a smile, before turning to Oberyn. “Well, I can only thank you for not killing me, on the spot, I suppose. And… I was hoping you could tell me more about my family, as you’ve met them, recently. And...” he hesitated a little. Dare he say it? “I would thank you, My Prince, if you told me of your sister as well. Of the woman, whom I would have called my mother and of Dorne, the Kingdom I would have called my second home, after the North, had they lived.”

Oberyn smirked and he knew, that he’d chosen the right words and so had the Dornish on his side. “I admit, had it not been for Rhaenys… you might have met my spear. But I swore to her not to harm you and I will keep my word. I will help House Targaryen, Jaehaerys.”

He grumbled at that. “_That_ will need some time getting used to.”

The three men just laughed at him, as his uncle ushered him to sit, offering a hot drink, before they launched into another string of stories about the past.

Maybe, there was a chance for something new- something better- in his life.

* * *

Once Oberyn left with a written agreement of the alliance between the North and Dorne, his uncle and Arthur led him down into the crypts. As they passed the many tombs of long-dead Starks, Jon stopped before the statue of Cregan Stark, brushing a hand over the writing.

“Something’s the matter?” asked his uncle.

Jon glanced between him and the tomb, shaking his head. “No. I just thought it appropriate to stop for a second. It was here, behind the tomb of Cregan Stark, where I’ve found the eggs, after all.” he said, gesturing for his uncle to lead the way.

They resumed their treck further down the corridor until they reached the newest ones, the names still clearly readable, even if covered by dust. Gazing at the stone face of his mother, Jon’s breath caught. He’d heard stories of her beauty, of course, but he’d never truly taken his time to stop and have a good look at the sculpture.

“She’s beautiful.”

“She was.” whispered his uncle. “Yet I feel, that the mason did her no justice. She was even more beautiful in life.”

“Why are we here though?” he asked.

“There’s a chest for you from them, that I’ve hidden down here.” his uncle answered, as he placed his torch down, Arthur doing the same. His uncle grabbed a shovel he hadn’t even noticed until now and started digging behind the tomb. Arthur switched with him once and when they were done, they pulled a huge strongbox towards the torches’ light.

It was made of dark wood, the sigils carved into them- the snarling Stark direwolf right next to the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen. They stepped aside to give him more room. For a moment, he hesitated before bending down and opening it.

First, he was met with red velvet and four pieces of paper, that had turned slightly yellow from time. Swallowing hard, he reached for one of the papers and unfolded it.

It was a letter- from his mother. Swallowing, he started to read it in a low tone, but still loud enough for his unce and Arthur to hear.

**Dear son (call it a mother’s hunch, but I know you’re my big, strong son),**

**If you’re reading this, it means Ned had deemed you old enough to know of your heritage. First and foremost, you must know, that no matter what, I love you.**

**Secondly, I ask you to always listen to Ned, Ben and Arthur- who’s like another brother, by now. Sometimes, even if it seems unfair, we must make hard decisions and all of those for your safety. So whatever lie Ned told you (probably not a plausible one, he’s a terrible liar), he lied for my sake. Know, that I always loved you, from the moment I found out, you’ll be born.**

**Thirdly, I never wanted to marry a drunk whoremonger, like Robert. I went willingly with Rhaegar. He was a good man, just like Ned. I hope you’ll be like him. Cling to life and the knowledge, that no matter what, we love you and may the Old Gods allow it, I’m always watching you.**

**Robert usurped our family and I shudder to think what would happen, if someone reminded the bastard, that our grandmother is Princess Vaella-who married Edwyle Stark-, the only child of Prince Daeron. Regardless of you taking the Throne or not, which is your birthright, I ask you to protect your- OUR- family. Do not allow Stags and Lions to bring bloodshed. Show the Lions, that we are not the Reynes and Tarbecks, for them to bring the ‘Rains of Castamere’ again.**

**I ask you to remind them of who we are- remind them, that Winter Is Coming, with Fire and Blood.**

**With love, your mother**

**Lyanna Stark-Targaryen,**

**Princess of the Seven Kingdoms **

The tears slid down his face, so he quickly wiped them away and placed the paper on the ground, reaching for another. He took a deep breath and unfolded it- this one, as expected, had different handwriting but it was no less elegant than his mother’s.

**Dear Jaehaerys (I believe Lya about you being a boy, even if Rhaegar keeps muttering, you might as well be a girl, despite his need for an heir),**

**Know, that while you are not of my blood, you will be my son in everything else, as Lyanna is the sister, I could never have. I feel you should know, that I had no problem with Lya marrying Rhaegar- actually, I encouraged him.**

**Ever since I was young, I had health problems and on top of it, our marriage had been a political one. After Rhaenys’ birth nearly killed me, we started debating with Rhaegar, as he was in need of an Heir and I could give him no more children, despite our wish for a big family. Varys, the Master of Whispers, came up with a temporary solution- he found a boy of Blackfyre descent, who’d been presented as my son, Aegon.**

**Then, we both met Lyanna and found, that while she was of the North, she was the spark we needed. She helped me understand your father more. So, with the blessing of Queen Rhaella, Rhaegar proposed to her… and you know how it went down, from there.**

**Inside the chest, you will find a ring, that my uncle, Lewyn Martell bore. Show it to my brothers along with this letter and I guarantee you, son- for you are as much my child, as Rhaenys- the might of Dorne will stand behind you, in your quest for the Throne. If my oaf of a brother dares to say no, make sure to tell him, I’d haunt him till his death.**

**Lastly, I ask you to take care of Rhaenys, if she’s truly alive. Even if she’s older than you, I ask of you to watch over her.**

**Your loving mother in all but blood,**

**Elia Martell-Targaryen, Princess of Dorne and the Seven Kingdom**

**P.S. You are a Martell in spirit, as Lya had been- take our House words to heart. UNBENT. UNBOWED. UNBROKEN. Do not let the Lions win. Ever.**

Jon, wide-eyed as he was, turned to look at Ser Arthur. “Did… did she just call me her son?”

Arthur grinned. “I believe so, Your Grace. And knowing her, she meant every word of that letter. If you keep it, along with Prince Lewyn’s ring, as she bid you to, we will have Dorne’s might at your beck and call. We have an alliance with Dorne now, but this will be all the more proof for your legal claim.”

Jon nodded numbly and turned back to the chest. He placed the letter next to his mother’s and reached for the next one, anticipation burning in his veins. With shaking hands, he reached for the third letter resting upon the red velvet. He unfolded it carefully and started reading again.

**Dear Jaehaerys/Visenya,**

**Know, that despite this disaster, we love you all the same. We always will, even if we aren’t there with you.**

** It is not your fault, nor it is anyone else’s. If you’re looking for the true culprit, look to the west- the Lion’s had always been a grasping House and our cousins, the Baratheons had become the worst traitors- kinslayers.**

**Know, that regardless of your gender or your looks- may those be of Valyria or the First Men- I love you, as I love my own children and Rhaenys. I hope you will grow up as fierce, as your mother and as talented, as your father. I wish the best for you.**

**If Daenerys survives this, I ask you, to take care of her, if you ever come across her. As for Viserys? He’s merely four name days old and shows signs of madness, as his father, already. I hope, you’ll have more courage than I had and will kill him- and save the undeserving of the suffering- as I could not do with Aerys, if he will be, like his father.**

**Grow up strong, like a Dragon and be cunning and honourable, as a Wolf.**

**Also, I would like to ask you to enact the Pact of Ice and Fire- I placed a copy of it in the chest- when you start your quest for the Throne. It was an agreement between House Stark and Targaryen, during the Dance of Dragons, that hadn’t been fulfilled on Targaryen part, despite the House Stark keeping their word. Now, I believe it is high time- it is my last decree, as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.**

**Also, you will find a few relics, that I managed to secret away from under Aerys’ nose. Such are the armor of the Conquerors- sent to the Wall in a different chest- and the crown of Daeron I. Also, there are all my jewels, should you ever meet Rahenys or Daenerys, those belong to them.**

**Love and best wishes, your grandmother,**

**Rhaella Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms**

With shaking hands, he placed this letter to the others too, wiping away yet another tear. “They cared for me,” he whispered, reaching for the last letter, which if he had to guess, would be from his father. Swallowing hard, he unfurled it as well. This writing, just like the rest, was elegant, though a bit harder to read- he could tell, that it had been written in haste.

**Dear Visenya/Jaehaerys,**

**Let me start simply- I love you. Regardless of how you’d grown up, I love you. I also want you to know, that I hadn’t kidnapped your mother- I loved her, with all my heart. As had Elia. It was an agreement between us- Mother, Elia and myself and when we presented the situation to Lya, she agreed as well.**

**We wed on the Isle of Faces. Sers, Arthur, Oswell and Gerold were present, along with Benjen Stark, Elia, Rhaenys and Prince Lewyn Martell, as witnesses. **

**Inside the chest, I leave you all, that had been dearest to me- my silver harp. From an expedition to Essos, I acquired our long lost blade, _Blacfyre_. I wish for you to wield it, as the Rightful King- if any of the Kingsguard, who’d been in Dorne with your mother, live, they had surely taught you well enough to be worthy of it.**

**_Dark Sister_, as I had come to know, is with my great-uncle, Aemon, who serves as the Maester of Castle Black, on the Wall, along with the Conquerors’ armor, courtesy of mother. I ask you to visit him and take those. He would be able to tell you more of Our House, as well, if he yet lives.**

**I wish you the best, my child, and grow strong. You are a Dragon and a Wolf, the Song of Ice and Fire- never forget that. Whatever you truly commit yourself to, it will be done, of that I’m certain.**

**Your loving father, **

**Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen**

**P.S. I asked Jaime to keep my family safe, so whatever he did, that might have earned scorn, he did it on my orders. Him and Varys had helped to get Rhaenys into the Tower, to be with your mother.**

This time, the paper slipped from his hand. He was just too shooked, too touched, to hold himself together any more. They had loved him, truly loved him. And their hopes rested on him- that much he could tell. Once, in the forest, he still doubted his goal of acquiring the Iron Throne. No longer. These wonderful people- all of them his family- believed in him fiercely, despite having never met him.

After a few minutes, he wiped away his tears and focused his attention on the chest. He brushed away the red velvet, on which the letters were, only to reveal countless priceless artifacts.

A silver-stringed harp with three dragon heads, a golden ring adorned with a sun and countless necklaces, rings and hairpins- all for women. He also found a small parchment, sealed with the three-headed dragon of the Targaryens. Gently placing them elsewhere, he brushed away another layer of velvet. Underneath he found a black-hilted sword adorned with dragon heads and a rhombus-shaped ruby. The blade- a bastard sword, by the length, _oh the irony_\- was rippling silver, just like _Dawn_ and _Ice_. It was made of Valyrian Steel. It was the blade of the Conqueror- the blade, his father trusted him to wield- _Blackfyre_.

“Is that… _Blackfyre_? The Blade of Aegon I, that had been lost?” asked his uncle, shook in his voice.

“Speak about Rhaegar being a lucky bastard.” murmured Arthur. “I wish that luck had followed him onto the battlefield.”

Jon brushed a hand over the black handle. “The past cannot be changed, Ser. But we can still shape the future.” He stood up and turned, to look the two in the eyes. “Time to show the Baratheons and Lannisters, _who_ we are. They would rue the day they rebelled. For Winter is Coming, with Fire and Blood… and we stand Unbent, Unbowed, Unbroken. _They_, on the other hand, will fall and pay the debt of blood they owe to Our House.”

The smile on his uncle’s and Arthur’s faces was all the answer he needed. They would stand with him.


	13. Jaime IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so... time for canon things to happen...

**298 AC**

He cursed House Stark under his breath, pulling his white cloak tighter around himself. Why couldn’t they, for example, rule Highgarden or the Riverlands? Why did the Starks have the North, where he was in danger of _freezing to death?_

He was trudging in front of Robert atop his white stallion, as far from Cersei, as possible. The journey would have lasted weeks, even for a lone rider, but having half-the-kingdom at their back, made it even worse. Plus, Cersei’s annoyingly creaking wheelhouse climbed every little bump on the road, as if it was as high, as Casterly Rock. He was half tempted to throw her onto a horse and burn the thing, so they would at least have some heat, for a while. (For the first time in years, he shared Robert’s opinion of something. He’d heard Robert muttering about burning the thing himself or at least, leaving it behind.)

Not to mention, that this ride was pointless. The Starks hadn’t set foot sought of the Neck, since the Greyjoy Rebellion. Eddard Stark would never accept being the Hand- he wanted his nephew alive.

No one seemed to notice the frosty greeting Lord Benjen Greystark had given them a few days ago when they reached Moat Cailin. Everyone had been obvious to the look Lady Greystark had given them.

Robert, the fool, called her a Targaryen and nearly got them killed, as the Lady clarified, that her father had Stark blood, while her mother had been a Lysene noble and she had nothing to do with ‘craven madmen’. Jaime didn’t think she realised, but he heard, as she kept muttering under her breath- ‘usurper’, ‘kinslayer’ and ‘hypocrite’ had been a few of her rather colorful words, once the King headed to the chambers he’d been given. It was clear to him, that she didn’t mean her words about House Targaryen. If anything, she would have probably liked to leave Robert to freeze somewhere, where his body would not be found.

Briefly, he wondered if she had Targaryen blood herself, but with Robert so close, he did barely dare think of the True Royal House, let alone speak their name.

So when they finally moved further north, towards Winterfell, Jaime breathed a sigh of relief. The less he had to be around Serena Greystark, the better. However, at the very same time, a pit formed in his stomach, the closer they got. He knew well, that Ned Stark would deny Robert’s offer and then, Robert would be furious.

_Ours Is the Fury._

The words of House Baratheon rang true, for Robert. To the point, where that fury might have seemed madness, to someone, who’d experienced the atrocities of Aerys Targaryen.

* * *

After what seemed to be forever, they finally rode through the main gates of Winterfell, where the Starks were already waiting. Using his Kingsguard status, he searched the crowd discreetly- anyone with sharp eye enough to see him searching would think he was doing his duty. In fact, he didn’t give a damn about Robert- he was trying to see if he could spot Arthur because where Arthur was, there would be the True King. However, he wasn’t lucky enough. He couldn’t see Arthur anywhere nearby. Not that Jaime blamed the Dornish for trying to stay away from Robert or anyone close to him.

Once the formalities were dealt with, he dismounted and went on with his routine, after handing his stallion to a stable boy.

Then, just as the wheelhouse arrived and Cersei stepped out, Robert called out to Stark, that he’d be going down the crypts. Jaime’s hand- the same hand, that had stopped Aerys from killing thousands,- itched for his sword, to drive into Robert.

He saw, as Ned Stark’s face froze into indifference, before agreeing. It was the same look he’d seen on Stark so many years ago, after Victorian’s head was presented. Strangely enough, Catelyn Stark stared after them, glaring icicles at Robert. Now, _that_ was interesting. _‘Does she know about the King? That he’s not truly a bastard?’_

Somehow, he had a feeling she did and shall the Targaryen banner be raised in the North, the Riverlands would follow.

It would be a war, just as Varys said. His only regret was, that Tyrion would probably stand on the wrong side of it.

* * *

Escaping the feast without being spotted was a feat in itself- but luckily, he wasn’t on duty to guard Robert, so no one would be looking for him too much. He escaped from the loud laughter and the smell of alcohol into the cold northern dusk. He just walked and walked without looking where he was going, until he found himself in the Godswood.

And he froze when he caught sight of Arthur. He hoped, that he wasn’t close enough to be spotted. Still, apparently, he was close enough to catch the whispered words.

“You’ve to keep calm,” Arthur whispered. “And try staying far away from them.”

_“Calm?”_ a much younger voice hissed out. It was thick with the northern accent, but Jaime could still recognise the voice of Rhaegar, even after all these years. It was almost the same. “Keep calm, when the man, who butchered my stepmother and brother is having a feast inside the Keep, that had been my home since I was born?”

Arthur sighed. “Alright. Stay outside then. I’m sure Catelyn will save you some food. I’ll tell her you’d be going to your room and for her to send a servant later with it.”

Rhaegar’s son- because, who else could the lad be?- huffed. “Fine. Thanks, uncle Arthur.”

Arthur chuckled. “You’re welcome.” and then, he turned away. Hearing the lad call Arthur his uncle gave Jaime a moment of pause. Was he maybe overreacting and was this really Arthur’s nephew? Was the King, whom Varys spoke of, off somewhere else, while Robert was here? (No, it wasn’t fine. He’s just said ‘stepmother and brother’.)

Jaime watched Arthur go and stood there, studying the young lad, whom he now could see. Lithe build and rather short for his age. Dark violet eyes with silver, curling hair and two dark stands framing his long face. Upon closer inspection, there was nothing from Arthur- or even Ashara- in him.

Jaime twitched, as a picture formed in his mind.

He looked more, like…

He didn’t have the chance to finish that thought, as the boy turned in his direction and their eyes locked. Bright green on dark violet- not one but resembling Arthur’s own. It was as if Rhaegar was staring at him, even from the grave.

The young King froze at seeing him before his posture loosened into something resembling carelessness. Still, Jaime could see his tension, no matter how much he tried to hide it. “What does a southron, -an anointed knight nonetheless- seek in the Godswood, where the Old Gods dwell?”

“I was seeking a Sword, but instead I find a Dragon,” he answered.

The loose posture was gone in a second and the lad’s right hand reached for the hilt of his blade. Jaime shook his head slowly, unsheathing his blade and tossing it to the ground, without taking his eyes off of the Targaryen in front of him.

“Won’t you run and tell them?”

Jaime snorted. “Tell who, what? Robert? He’d kill a Targaryen over my dead body, which would be hard. He can’t even lift his warhammer anymore if I had to guess.”

“Do you think I’d believe it?”

Jaime sighed. “No, and you’ve no reason to. But… I only killed Aerys out of necessity. Princess Rhaenys was the only one I could save, though.”

Two silvery eyebrows rose. “_You_ saved my sister?”

“I promised Rhaegar, after all. Princess Elia insisted I take her daughter first. By the time I made it back to her chambers through the secret tunnels… I saw her killed by Lorch. Clegane killed Aegon and Princess Rhaenys’ decoy.”

The memory made him feel cold, freezing his soul, as the north froze an unprepared man’s lifeblood. The violet eyes bore into his soul with the fire of a true dragon burning within. “Strange, how you wouldn’t call my brother a prince.”

Jaime twitched. “He wasn’t a prince by blood. No Blackfyre has the right, babe or not.”

There was a heartbeat of silence. “You know he’d been a Blackfyre?”

Jaime nodded slowly. “Queen Rhaella told me, a few days after the supposed kidnapping. She said, that she would have liked to see them wed, but she didn’t dare to leave Aerys, lest he caught more of their plan.”

The King gave him a speculative look. “It does match with what I’ve been told, but I don’t exactly trust you yet, Ser.”

Jaime nodded slowly. “I expected nothing less.” Truly, he couldn’t expect better, yet hearing it from him, hurt. “Any chance for me to change your opinion, Your Grace?”

The Targaryen’s eyes flashed dangerously at the title- he wasn’t used to it, if Jaime had to guess. “Maybe you could start by keeping quiet in front of the others… and by telling me, what my father had meant when he wrote, that he’d ordered you himself.”

Jaime blinked in surprise. Rhaegar had mentioned _him_ in a letter? (There was a letter?) Sighing, he took a step forward, to be farther from his sword and settled on the nearby log.

“It will be a long story.”

The young King sat on the stone right in front of the massive Wirewood, its red leaves matching him well- red after all, was one of the Targaryen colours. “I’m supposedly a bastard and not to attend the feast. I have plenty of time.”

Jaime heaved a sigh, before starting his story. “It started after Queen Rhaella summoned me to her solar, a while after the supposed kidnapping and…”


	14. Jaehaerys III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I deleted the "note" chapter from earlier, the comments had been lost too. But thank you very much for the suggestions on dragon names- in the end, I used two male names of the many names, that you all suggested. It had been a tough decision, but I'm happy with the names. The female's names were good as well, but in the end, I chose my own.  
Regardless, thanks for the ideas. Cookies to everyone, who took their time and commented. 
> 
> Kudos and hugs to the people, who recognize the names they suggested.
> 
> Enjoy :)

Jaime Lannister almost seemed to flee from him, once he finished telling his side of the happenings from fifteen years ago. It seemed, that the death of Aerys Targaryen- he’d never call that madman his grandfather,- was well-deserved.

Jaime broke a vow, to keep another and thus, to keep people safe. The voice of the Kingslayer still resonated in his mind, sending dreadful shivers through his spine.

_He called for their death. ‘Burn them! Burn them all!’ he said. He didn’t want anyone to rule the city if he could not._

Jaehaerys shivered again. ‘_I hope, I will never be like him.’_ Just thinking of something like that happening, made him want to vomit. As if that was not enough terror for his mind, the Lannister’s voice appeared again, echoing and full of darkness.

_Robert’s just like him, to an extent. Only instead of seeing others burn, he preferred seeing his enemies beheaded or with smashed bones._

Jaehaerys swallowed the bile in his throat and instead, chose to walk back towards the Keep.

He’d be riding out to feed his dragons- they couldn’t hunt during the day, as it was risking discovery and the nights were simply too cold and the didn’t even want to move from their comfortable, tangled pile of wings and tails. He could still recall the days when they were small and didn’t want to eat. He remembered the worry he felt- it was like ice around his heart. After he accidentally dropped a piece of meat into the fire he’d built for himself, he found, that the dragons ate it.

Since then, they had been eating without a problem and growing larger by the day.

He went to his room to grab extra furs when he came across his aunt. She smiled and raised an eyebrow in silent question. “Got to feed them,” he muttered.

She gave a nod. “I’ll have your food sent up in an hour.”

“Thank you, Aunt Cat.” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper- walls had ears, even in Winterfell. Especially now, that the Usurper and the Lannisters were here.

Over the course of the year, since his dragons had hatched, many things had changed. Once it truly sunk in, who he was, he asked others to use his birth name, whenever in private. The look on their faces had been priceless- Arthur’s face had almost been split in half by a grin along with Serena. Catelyn and Benjen just looked shooked and the usually stoic Eddard Stark looked as if _Ice_ had been driven through his heart.

He still remembered that conversation, in the silent cover of the night, when everyone else had long fallen asleep.

_The Lord’s solar seemed crowded with six of them present. As he walked in, his Uncle Benjen moved to stand and give him a place to sit. He waved the offer away and sat right in front of the fireplace instead, one knee pulled close- just the way he sat on the library’s window ledge when reading._

_“Have you named your dragons yet?” asked Serena enthusiastically. The dragons had allowed his uncles and Aunt Serena close, but neither Arthur nor Lady Catelyn dared to approach them._

_He grinned. “Aye, I have.”_

_Serena leaned closer, her lavender eyes glinting curiously. “By Syrax! Can you tell me, before I die of the suspense?”_

_He laughed at that. “Well, the female is…”_

_“There’s a female?” Uncle Ben cut in, blinking owlishly._

_Jaehaerys rolled his eyes. “Aye. One female hatchling and two males.” they nodded in understanding. “So, the female one is _Rhaelia_ for the three women, who loved me, even without meeting me. She’s the gold one.” _

_He saw the shook on their faces and the emotion flashing in their eyes. “The silver one is_ Visegon,_ for my brother and my uncle.” this time, the shook seemed to be even greater. However, when he thought of the black one, he turned to look at the Warden of the North._

_He didn’t want to miss his reaction. “The biggest one, the black is _Rhaeddar_. For my father, I never met and the father I’ve always known.”_

_Jaehaerys was sure, that the disbelieving expression on his face was worth all the gold of Casterly Rock. “Y-you named a dragon after me?”_

_He smirked. “Should I not have? It seemed to fit him and he seemed to like his name very much.”_

_“My nephew named a dragon after me,” he muttered in disbelief._

_“Aye, uncle, I have,” he confirmed with a laugh. Then he leaned back a bit, pressing his back against the fireplace. His hands wandered a bit and waited for his uncle to say something else. However, it was cut off by a shooked gasp._

_Looking up, Jaehaerys saw Catelyn’s eyes wide with shock and terror. Blinking he looked around- nothing was out of the ordinary… and then he realized, that his left hand had wandered right into the flames of the hearth, playing with a burning piece of wood. He pulled it out and found it completely fine- this fire was tiny, compared to the blaze, that birthed his dragons._

_“That… will need some time getting used to,” Arthur muttered. “Normal people burn.”_

_Jaehaerys snorted and let his hand drop. The flames were pleasantly warm. “Normal people _don’t_ ride dragons, Uncle Arthur.” he deadpanned._

_“We’re not even relatives.” muttered the Dayne._

_Jaehaerys raised an eyebrow. “If I recall correctly, Lady Dyanna Dayne had married Prince Maekar. One of their children was Daeron, whose only child was Vaella Targaryen-Stark. So yes, we are related.”_

_Arthur blinked and the Starks all looked at each other and then at Arthur before looking back at him. “I’ll have to start reading history and House records before I end up forgetting who are our family,” muttered Uncle Benjen._

_“I’ll join you, brother.”_

_He laughed at that. “Since this is dealt with… I suppose I should tell you now.”_

_“Tell us what?” asked Catelyn._

_“Well, Lady Stark…” _

_She shook her head. “We’re family. Call me Aunt Cat in private, Jaehaerys.”_

_He nodded. “_Jaehaerys_,” he said simply. “I’d prefer if you used the name my father gave me. Jaehaerys.”_

_The expression his uncles had was… he couldn’t even describe it. “Uncle Ned? Would you please stop looking at me, as if I just stabbed you with _Ice_?”_

_“But…”_

_He sighed. “I’ll always be Jon- for you, I’ll always be _Jon_. But I’m Jaehaerys too. I did tell Prince Oberyn, that I want the Throne. Well, I want my sister and aunt home, first. But for us to stay together, to be safe, I’ll have to sit that chair. So be it. But if I’ll be king, you can’t quite call me Jon anymore. Not, when anyone not part of the family is around. I would have to get used to the Valyrian name sometime, too, right?"_

_“You’re right,” nodded Serena. “and there’s nothing wrong with your request.” she glared sharply at her husband and good-brother. “Jaehaerys.” the glare melted into a delighted smile. “Suits you well.”_

_He shrugged. “I just hope I can be half as good, as my namesake.”_

_“You will be.” Uncle Benjen assured him, his tone steady. “One day, you will be.”_

Those encouraging words had meant more than he would have thought. After that, he took to be more attentive during their lessons with Maester Luwin or when Uncle Ned called him and Robb to be present for some lordly duty.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and opened the door to his room, which he had reached, while lost in his memories. Glancing around, he found his furs and he threw them over his shoulder, checking his pocket for the daggers. Satisfied, he hummed to himself and walked out.

* * *

After spending hours in the forest, he was finally sitting in the cave and watching the dragons eat. Rhaeddar and Visegon often fought over the food, but today they were strangely docile as if they sensed his uneasiness.

They were growing rapidly and were already larger than horses and they were still growing- if the few books that accounted dragons were correct, they’d continue growing all their lives, though the older they got, the slower the process would be.

He frowned. _‘We’d have to move soon. They’re big and will only get bigger and hungrier. I cannot keep them hidden forever.’_ Not to mention, the more they grew, the more he wished to be up in the skies, just like his ancestors.

Once they finished eating, they curled around him, Rhaeddar, whom he was the closest to, opening his wing to give him extra heat and cover. He smiled and leaned into his side while stroking Visegon’s silver scales. They were beautiful and powerful- his pride and joy. Uncle Benjen kept joking that the dragons were his children and he was getting a taste of what it meant to be a parent.

He never confirmed those words, but never really disagreed with him, either. A part of him was worried, if he admitted how attached he was to the dragons, they’d say he was more Targaryen than Stark. Of course, he knew he was being irrational, but the whispers of his childhood hunted him even now.

_“Not a Stark. Snow. Doesn’t even look like his father.”_ some people would whisper when they thought he couldn't hear. He huffed a little. If only they knew! He always looked more like his father.

The dragons hissed softly and inched closer to him. He smiled, patting Rhaelia on the nose. “I look like them both. I’m both- Stark and Targaryen,” he whispered.

He was both a Dragon and a Wolf and he wouldn’t have it any other way- even if it meant becoming a king.

* * *

A few days later, he found himself in his uncle’s chambers, his aunt already in her nightshift, ready for bed.

“Why you needed to speak with me?” he asked, leaning against the hearth. He wasn’t cold, but since the _pyre-incident_, as Uncle Ned called it, he found himself seeking heat a bit more.

“Lysa sent me a letter.” his aunt said, offering him a letter, the broken seal depicting the sigil of House Arryn. He blinked and took it. Since his heritage came out, he was privy to information, that not even Robb was told- or those few times, that Robb knew things, he knew less. (He knew it was their extra caution, to prepare him for the political games, once he had his crown.)

He scanned the letter once... twice. Eyes wide he looked up. “She says the Lannisters…Is she alright?”

“She fled back to the Vale with her son, not long after,” Catelyn said, nodding her head towards the hearth. He tossed the paper and let it flutter down into the flames, where it turned to ash within moments.

He nodded and looked at his uncle. “Wasn’t Lord Arryn… the U- _his_ Hand?” he asked, fumbling over his words. They were speaking quietly, true, but he didn’t dare calling Robert a Usurper, while he was within the Keep itself. (But he wouldn’t call the fat oaf a king either- he sat the Throne, that belonged to House Targaryen. The Throne, that belonged to him, Rhaenys and Daenerys.)

“He was.” his uncle answered gruffly. “And now Robert wants _me_ to be the Hand.”

Jaehaerys paused and thought about it. “You don’t want to.”

There was a quiet snort. “Starks don’t fair well in the sought, Jaehaerys.”

He rolled his eyes. “Call me Jon. That name is a mouthful- I don’t even know what _they were thinking_, choosing that name. Besides, it’s safer now.” His aunt smiled, her blue eyes sparkling with mirth at his comment. He just huffed at her, before turning to his uncle again.

“Are you going to ignore Lysa’s warning?” his aunt asked. “Shouldn’t we look into his death, Ned? What if he was _really_ killed?”

“If he was killed,” Jaehaerys muttered, “I wonder _why_ he had been killed and who would be bold enough to kill a man, like him? Hand and foster father of Robert Baratheon, while also the Warden of the East.”

His uncle glared at him. “Alright, you two. _I understand. _I should accept Robert’s offer and look into Jon’s death.”

Jaehaerys smirked a little. “If it makes you feel easier, I could _order_ you to go.”

His aunt clasped a hand on her mouth, yet her giggles still filled the room. The look his uncle gave him, made him want to roar with laughter- if not for the fact, that he was here in secret, he would have.

“I’m starting to think a little monster had been unleashed after you read the letters.”

Jaehaerys gave the best innocent look he could manage, without laughing out loud. “I’ve absolutely no idea, what you’re talking about, _father_.”

“Just keep quiet,” he growled, as he flung a … shoe at him. Jaehaerys dodged expertly- courtesy of Ser Arthur’s relentless lessons- and headed to the door, shoulders shaking with silent laughter, as his aunt behind him giggled even louder.

Dark times were coming, that much he could feel, but as long, as they had each other, it would be fine.

_When the white winds blow and winter comes, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives._

He would make sure, that the people he cared about, would survive.


	15. Eddard IV & Arthur III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best, but I wanted Jon, sorry, Jaehaerys to meet Maester Aemon.

**Eddard IV**

He watched Arya play with her direwolf- a brown she-wolf she’d named Nymeria. He couldn’t help but shiver at the memory of how they found the pups just before Robert arrived.

The white she-wolf dead, with a broken antler in her throat a litter of pups around her. Nine pups, one for each of the children.

Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon, Jo-_Jaehaerys_, Cregan, Naerya and Rickard.

Naerya had said it was a sign from the gods. Ned could believe in something like that, after seeing his nephew survive that blaze the past year. The only problem was, that he didn’t know, what that sign meant. Was it a warning or a sign of a better future?

Arya was supposed to be getting ready for the feast, to welcome Robert, but he couldn’t bring himself to call her away from her wolf. Sansa was enamored enough with Joffrey, he didn’t need Arya to grow attached to Myrcella or Tommen.

A white ball of fluff moved to the side, away from Nymeria and the other pups. Ned watched it with a smile, as Jaehaerys picked him up.

„Jon!“ called Arya happily, her wolf following her. „Have you named yours?“

Jaehaerys smiled and ruffled Arya’s hair. „Aye, Little Wolf. His name is Ghost. Have you?“

„Nymeria! After the Warrior Princess of the Rhoyne!“

Jaehaerys‘ deep violet eyes glinted with mirth and their eyes met. „Good name.“ Arya noticed his glance and turned to look up.

„Father! I... am I to go and get ready?“ she asked sulkily.

Ned smiled. „Aye, Arya, you should, before your mother finds you.“

„But Jon can stay outside!“ she pouted, „Why can’t I?“

„You will be going to the feast, little sister.“ Jaehaerys said placatingly.

However, it appeared to have the wrong effect, as Arya turned on her heels and glared- so much like Lyanna. Jaehaerys cringed a little as if he knew, the look on his favorite little sister’s face, was the same, as his mother used to have. „You’re coming too, _right_? You’re family too.“

He chuckled and shook his head. „I’m family, but I won’t be going. It would be offending the _royal family_ if a bastard was there on the feast.“

Arya was obvious to the venom in her ‚_brother’s_‘ tone. Ned, on the other hand, wasn’t. Actually, the fear of recognition wasn’t the only reason him and Arthur decided, that the best would be if Jaehaerys left for a while. Ned was afraid, the Targaryen temper would surface and his nephew would say something to Robert, that would reveal their secret.

„But...“ Arya pouted even more and Jaehaerys ruffled her hair.

„Survive them being here. While the King’s here, I will be away, to do something for father. When I’m back, I’ll show you a secret.“ Arya’s face lit up with a smile. „Now hurry along. Your mother’s surely looking for you.“

Arya grinned and ran into the Keep. Grinning, Jaehaerys looked up at him, once she was gone. Ned laughed. „You have a way with her.“

He smirked. „She’s a wild one- wild or fiery... not too much of a difference, father.“

Each time that word left his mouth, Ned felt saddened. He was not the man Jaehaerys should be calling that. „Get ready, Jon. Wouldn’t want you to be late, right?“

His eyes widened and he put Ghost on the ground. The puppy hurried over to his siblings. „Where...“

„The stables.“ he chuckled.

Jaehaerys whirled around and strode away confidently, as if he owned the Keep. The thought made him chuckle. Since he knew, who he was, his confidence had grown- it was heartwarming to see. He knew, that Lyanna and Rhaegar would be proud of their son- he surely was.

* * *

**Arthur III**

He led the two horses outside and waited for Jaehaerys to arrive. A minute passed and the young King appeared, his expression serious, but eyes glinting with happiness. Arthur offered the reins of the horse and raised an eyebrow.

“Something’s happened?”

Chuckling, the Targaryen flung himself into the black destrier's saddle. “Arya named her Direwolf _Nymeria_. Ironic, isn’t it?”

Arthur mounted as well, grinning. “Amusing, most of all. Ironic and amusing. Ready?”

“Aye.”

They rode out of the Keep, with a cart of supplies, meant for the Watch, following behind. What Arthur found strange, that it was Benjen Greystark, who led the cart. The Lord of Moat Cailin arrived just a few hours ago to meet with his brother. Arthur hadn’t bothered to ask why.

“Why are you coming, uncle?” Jaehaerys asked, glancing behind.

Greystark shrugged. “One of the trading ships stopped by us- apparently, the captain had been asked by the Magister of Pentos, Illyrio Mopatis, to deliver a message to me, for Ned.”

Arthur’s attention perked. The North had been trading with Essos for years but never had any of the Magisters sent a letter to Ned. “Do you know what it was about?”

“Princess’ Rhaenys and Daenerys are with Magister Illyrio. He promised to shelter them until we’re ready to move. Varys said he could be trusted, but Ned says he’d surely want something in return for ‘the risk’ of keeping the Targaryens safe.”

Jaehaerys huffed. “He’ll get it, once they are with me and I sit the Throne. Until then, no promises.” he glanced ahead. “How long till The Wall?”

Benjen seemed thoughtful for a moment. “Long enough, that by the time we reach it, they should be preparing to leave. By the time we make it back, they should be gone…”

“Something’s wrong, uncle?”

Benjen shook his head. “No, but Ned seemed worried and in a bad mood. I didn’t really want to ask, while the Lannisters are there, but…”

“Baratheon asked him to be the next Hand,” said Jaehaerys. Arthur wasn’t surprised at the blunt answer, nor at the venom in his voice.

Benjen snorted. “Ned will never accept that.”

Arthur chuckled. “Not useless he was ordered to go by our King.”

Benjen seemed taken aback, his blue eyes wide and glued to Jaehaerys. “You _ordered_ Ned to go?”

Jaehaerys didn’t seem ashamed about ordering the man, who raised him. “He wanted to say no.” he growled out, “When Lady Arryn wrote a letter, that she suspected her husband had been killed by Lannisters. I don’t want to start a war, but if the Lannisters really killed him, it might eventually give us the chance to move for the Throne.”

Benjen sighed. “I... alright, I see why you did it.”

After that, silence settled between them, but Arthur could still hear Benjen’s disbelieving muttering about his nephew ordering his brother around. It seemed the way to The Wall would at least be an amusing one.

* * *

When they finally saw the gate and the massive ice construction, Arthur felt a flood of relief. Up here, it was even colder, than in Winterfell- he would have liked to be near a fire, with a warm drink in hand. A few minutes after they caught sight of the Wall, a horn sounded and the gate right in front of them was opened.

As they trotted through the gate, Arthur couldn’t help, but find himself awed by it, despite having heard many things about it in his years in Winterfell. Seeing it and hearing things were very different. They stopped and Benjen got down from the cart, calling for the Lord Commander. The man stepped out from the crowd, his black clothing not one bit different from the rest of the Brotherhood.

“Ah, it’s always a pleasure to see a Stark here.” greeted the Commander.

Benjen gave a wry smile. “I go by Greystark these days, Commander Mormont.” surprise seemed to flash through the man’s eyes. “I would have a word with you, while my nephew is here to see to the supplies, for my brother.”

The Commander nodded. “Alright. Thorne, please lead Lord Stark to the Maester.”

A gruff man nodded and waved for Jaehaerys to follow. He shared a glance with the Targaryen before both of them dismounted and followed along. If Thorne was surprised to see him tag along, he didn’t voice it.

They arrived at the maester’s chambers, but before Thorne opened the door, he looked back at them. “Here we are. Maester Aemon is old and already blind, so there’s always a brother, who helps him in his duties.”

Arthur nodded, giving a half-way glance to his King. They’d have to see, that whoever was with the Maester, would not react poorly. “Thank you,” Jaehaerys answered simply. Thorne nodded and strode away.

They walked into the room and they saw an old man sitting by the fire. His unseeing gaze turned in their direction. “Who goes there?”

“Greetings, Maester Aemon.” Jaehaerys spoke. “We come from Winterfell, on the orders of Lord Eddard Stark. My name is Jon Snow and my companion is Ser Arthur Dayne.”

The maester’s head turned towards the voice, surprise flickering trough his features, as he slowly stood up. “A Dayne in the North? You’re far away.”

Arthur chuckled. “I made a promise years ago. So when Lord Stark rode north with Jon, I came.”

“I see. You are here to see to the Watch’s supplies, correct, Lord Snow?”

“Aye, Maester.”

“Those are right here, My Lord, Ser.” came a second, much younger voice. They looked up to see around boy with brown hair, offering a stack of papers. “I’m Samwell Tarly and I’m the one who usually helps Maester Aemon.”

Jaehaerys nodded, taking the offered stack. “Greetings.” he glanced at the papers, leaning against the hearth. “Are you a sworn brother, Samwell?”

“Just Sam, if you would, please.” he said, “Not yet, we had to come back from beyond The Wall before we could make our wov.”

Arthur blinked along with Jaehaerys. The Targaryen tough was faster to react. “House Tarly of Hornhill. The Reacher Lords keep to the Seven, as all those sought of the Neck, save for Dorne, where the belief of Mother Rhoyne is still as present, as the Seven.”

Sam blinked owlishly, obviously surprised that a supposed bastard knew all that. “Yes, but I never truly believed in the Seven.” he shrugged, “I thought making my wovs in front of a wirewood would be a good way of… well, my family and I don’t get along.”

“Ah, I suppose, I understand now.” he glanced down at the papers and frowned.

“Arthur, if you would.” Arthur blinked in surprise- Jaehaerys had never dropped his title before, so this was a first. But, not unwelcome one. He crossed the small distance swiftly, peering at the papers.

“I don’t think this is… good. They’re short on men _and_ supplies. And winter would be here soon.”

Arthur frowned too. “Not good. I… does Ben or Ned know of this?”

“I don’t think so.” they shared a look and there was a moment of silence. Arthur pressed his lips into a thin line. “I’m _not_ a delivery boy.”

Jaehaerys’ eyes grew wide and innocent- Arthur cursed all the gods he could name, for letting Jaehaerys learn, what that look did to him. “Please, uncle.”

Arthur growled. _‘Curse you, Rhaegar! The boy has the same effect on me, that you did!’_ He snatched the papers away and strode out of the room, muttering under his breath.

He wasn’t looking forward to the conversation this will lead to, with Benjen Greystark.


	16. Jaehaerys IV

He almost felt bad for using his loyal Kingsguard, as a delivery boy, especially hearing the muttering. But, the sooner they were done with the supply problem, the more sleep he would get at night. Plus, he wanted to speak with the Maester alone.

“Is there a reason you sent him, Lord Snow, instead of going yourself?” asked the old maester.

Jaehaerys hummed. “Yes. I would like to speak with you, maester, if you have time.”

“That I do. Samwell, would you be so kind as to bring us hot honey milk?”

Sam nodded. “Of course, Maester.” Sam turned and walked out the door, just like Arthur. Once the door clicked shut, he looked back at the elderly man.

“What is that you’re here to speak about?” he asked.

“Rhaegar Targaryen.” he breathed the name softly. The old man straightened up and looked at him with milky white eyes. Jon walked closer and gently grabbed the man. “He was my father and my mother was Lyanna Stark. I’ve come to visit, granduncle.”

The Maester seemed to lose his balance in shook, but Jaehaerys had a firm grip and when he was sure the man was on his feet again, he led him to sit. Aemon’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re truly his son?”

“I am. My uncle Eddard found my mother in Dorne, guarded by Ser Arthur and two of his brothers. My sister, Rhaenys was in the Tower as well. Ser Arthur came North, while Sers Oswell and Gerold fled to Essos with my sister. So I’ve been told.”

“He had written me a few times, but I only had a fleeting idea, that he might take a second wife. And then, the first battles happened and only then, did we get wind of what was truly going on.”

“My mother went willingly. Apparently, Princess Elia and Grandmother Rhaella had helped him arrange it all. I found out about a year ago.”

“You needed time to adjust, did you not?” the old man asked, his tone ringing knowingly.

Jaehaerys chuckled, recalling the way he hatched his dragons. “There wasn’t exactly time to adjust.”

“How come?” He was about to answer when Sam arrived with two steaming mugs. He took the one Sam offered with a nod. The maester took his own and nodded at him. “Continue, please. You can trust Samwell. He will not say anything, that would be between us.”

He glanced at the Tarly speculatively, as Sam matched his look with a confused one, before giving a small nod. “When I was about twelve summers old, I found three dragon eggs in the crypts, by the statue of Lord Cregan Stark.” Sam gasped in shook, but he only watched the maester, who nodded in understanding. “Apparently, they’d been given to the Starks by Queen Rhaenyra, for their support in the Dance. Last year, I hatched those eggs and that was, when Lord Stark told me, my parents were Lyanna Stark and Prince Rhaegar.” he took a sip of the milk- it was just a tad bit sweeter than he liked, but the heat of it was welcome.

Sam gasped, looking at him with wide eyes. “You…”

He nodded curtly, before looking at Aemon. “You came for the chest my grandniece had sent, have you not?”

He nodded. “Aye. Grandmother Rhaella mentioned a chest in her letter and I came for that.”

Aemon hummed. “You shall take it, then. But would you tell me your name, at least? I have a hard time believing, you’d be given an Andal name.”

He laughed a little. “My apologies, uncle. They named me Jaehaerys.”

“Jaehaerys Targaryen,” said Aemon, smiling. “A good name. Both of them were good kings.”

“I hope to live up to them,” he said.

“Ah, so you intend to take your birthright?”

“Aye, I will. Once my sister and aunt come back home, from Essos. Or even before that and I might see them on the way.”

“The dragon has three heads,” Aemon muttered.

“I’m sorry, granduncle?”

“I often discussed prophecies with Rhaegar. I believe he had some of our ancestors’ _Sight_\- the ability to see the future in dreams. And I myself had heard of that prophecy, even before Rhaegar. And now, it seems, it might be coming true- there are three young Targaryens, ready to take what is yours.”

He sighed. “I’m not sure yet, that I’m ready, but I will do it, for my sister. For the family I still have.”

“And I’m truly glad to hear that, Jaehaerys. But how could an old man, like myself, help?”

He put the mug down and gently hugged Aemon. “A lot of ways, granduncle. For one, you could tell me of Our House.”

Aemon’s answering grip was surprisingly strong. “Gladly. But it would take time…”

“I cannot go back until Robert is in Winterfell. We have a lot of time. I’m sure you could tell me a lot or give me a few pieces of good advice.”

“I never ruled, child. Aegon took it, when I chose the chain, instead of the crown.”

“True. But before that, you’ve seen a king rule and before you decided to forge your chain, they taught you, like the Heir. Any and all advice you can give, I will remember and consider.”

* * *

After another the long talk with his great-great-uncle, he walked towards the yard, his fingers playing with _Blackfyre_’s hilt. Since the blade had been found in the strongbox, he’d been training with a sword of the same length, made of regular steel- but now, now he itched to use _this_ blade. He’d been here for more than two weeks and they had yet to stay another few days, to completely avoid Baratheon.

He was mostly around the Lord Commander and his uncle- with Arthur close by- but he managed to make a friend out of Sam Tarly (who kept up his nervous behavior, since he knew his name). Thank the Gods he’d managed to convince Sam not to tell anyone, tough Maester Aemon was sure it wouldn’t be a problem, as many of the current Brothers had been sent here, for their loyalty to House Targaryen, during the Rebellion.

He found Alliser Thorne training the new recruits… poorly. Thorne himself had holes in his form, so it was no wonder, the recruits were fairing so badly. Thorne was shouting at some poor sod, but for now, he ignored that and walked closer to the trainees. He watched for a while, before poking a lad in the knee.

The other glared at him, but he matched his gaze. “Wrong stance. You’re going to lose your balance like that.”

“And what do you know of that? Besides, you’re a newbie here so stop trying to be smarter.”

He didn’t budge. “I’m here as an overseer, for Lord Eddard Stark and not as a newbie or a sworn brother. As I said, your form is bad.”

“Hey, what’s this ladies’ rumor party?” barked Thorne, as he walked up to them.

Jaehaerys looked at him. “You should train your recruits better, Ser.”

“Ah, look just not a pompous little lordling? You think you know it better?”

“I _know_ I’ve been taught better.” he shot back evenly, glaring at the man. “I was just trying to correct a flaw you either overlooked or hadn’t seen at all. That kind of flaw can cost one’s life.”

“Really?” Thorne sneered, “Let’s see then.” he drew his sword and strikes towards him. The recruit, whose stance he’d corrected backed away hastily. Jaehaerys just barely had time to unsheath his blade. But Thorne was fast, the moment the two blades clanged, he already drew back, ready for another strike from the side.

He didn’t even notice, that Arthur approached. Instead of _Blackfyre_ meeting Thorne’s blade, it was the milky-coloured _Dawn_. Arthur swiftly stepped between them, fully alert looking every inch a Kingsguard. “Hands off, _Ser_.” he growled out, “Or I cut you down where you stand.”

“Oh, look at you Dayne.” hissed Throne. “_Targaryen loyalist_, they called you, but _where_ were you, when Rhaegar fell? And now, you’re parading with a Stark bastard.”

“I was where he wanted me to be.” Arthur shot back.

Jaehaerys took a step back, loosening his grip on his sword. “Leave it, Arthur,” he said. “Not worth it and while I appreciate your concern, you were the one to teach me, how to fight. I can manage.”

“I’d be a poor excuse of a Kingsguard, if I let you fight when I’m right here, Jaehaerys,” he said, tough Jaehaerys could tell the Dornish was giving Thorne looks.

Whispers broke out between the Black Brothers and even Thorne drew back, looking at him wide-eyed. “_Impossible_. The Targaryens are across the Sea.”

He sighed, raising _Blackfyre_ for Thorne to see. “Not all of us and not for long.” he stepped closer and pressed the blade near Thorne’s throat. “If you _ever_ dare to speak my father’s name, while I can hear you, I will gladly show you, just how sharp Valyrian Steel is.” he stepped back and sheathed the sword.

“Don’t kill him, Ser. I’d hate explaining it to the Lord Commander or uncle Benjen, for that matter. He’d surely tell uncle Ned and uncle Ned had been muttering more than enough about my dragon temper, lately.”

“Maybe Ned’s right?” Arthur asked, grinning.

Jaehaerys glared. “You’re pushing it, _uncle_. And I don’t have a temper.” he huffed. “I’ll check on uncle Benjen before going back to granduncle, if you’re looking for me. He was actually about to tell something about great-great-grandmother Betha.”

As he turned, he still heard the Kingsguard’s muttering, as the Black Brother’s stared after him. “If you don’t have a temper, then I’m Brandon the Builder.”

* * *

That night the meal in the common hall was a bit awkward. Earlier today he’d just been a Stark come to check on the Brotherhood and now he was a Targaryen. Thorne kept as far away from him, as possible, while Arthur muttered foul curses about the man. Uncle Benjen had been glaring icicles at him, for letting the Watch know, who he was.

Commander Mormont had assured them, that many of the Watch had been previous Loyalists and there was nothing to worry about. Still, his uncle’s angry glare didn’t seem to lessen.

“Would you stop looking at me like that, uncle?” he hissed, glaring annoyed at the man on Mormont’s other side.

“I would if you would stop being as rash, as your mother.” he shot back.

“You’re forgetting Rhaegar. He was like that, too.” Arthur muttered.

Jaehaerys jabbed the White Sword in the ribs. “I thought you were on my side? Besides, _you_ told the lot my birth name.”

Arthur shook his head. “I’m here to protect you. Doesn’t mean I side with you on every stupid idea, you might have.”

“I’ve absolutely no idea, what you’re talking about.” Both Arthur and his uncle gave him looks, while Lord Commander Mormont tried making himself invisible, as possible, not willing to be caught up in the argument.

He glared back at both men, before taking a bite of his pie_. ‘This will be a long night.’_ he sighed. He desperately wished Baratheon would leave, so he could go back to Winterfell and get holed up with his dragons for a few days, just to avoid Arthur and Benjen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Jon and Ben hadn't gone north, I don't have a POV character at the Wall. Ideas how I could solve that?


	17. Rhaenys II & Catelyn II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And a little more of Rhaenys...

**Rhaenys II**

She was glad for the shelter Magister Illyrio had been providing them in Pentos for the past year, but she couldn’t help, but wonder what a Pentosi would gain from a Targaryen on the Iron Throne- Westeros, after all, was a different continent, where the Magister held no power.

But she didn’t ask and would never ask. She’d forbidden Dany from asking too,- it wasn’t good looking a gift horse in the teeth. For now, they were safe, with a roof over their heads and food on their plates.

There was a knock on her door and she lowered the book titled _The History of the Seven Kingdoms_.

“Enter!” a servant came, bowing hastily and offering a piece of rolled paper. To the side, Ser Oswell was watching ever diligently.

_‘Servant.’_ she frowned inwardly, as she took the paper. There were no servants here- only slaves. She shivered, knowing that before the Doom, her ancestors built an empire on slavery.

Once the girl left, the door clicking shut behind her, Rhaenys turned her gaze to the paper. It was neatly rolled up, sealed close by white wax- pressed into it was a snarling wolf’s head. Her eyes widened- since she was young, she knew the Great House sigils. She’d committed them to memory, as she had the sigil of her parents’ Houses.

It was the sigil of House Stark. _‘Uncle Ned.’_

She hastily broke the seal and sat back down, unfurling the letter. Flowing, elegant letters greeted her, unlike the ones she had seen from the Warden of the North.

**Dear Queen Rhaenys,**

**It is a great regret of mine, that I can only see you in fading dreams. I hope you are doing well, along with Daenerys, despite your circumstances. I have been told of who I was and where you were, a little more, than a year ago and since then, I only desire to see you home safe, with Starks and Martells, where you both belong.**

**I ask you to be patient, for we will soon meet and take, what is Ours by right. When you finally set foot in Westeros, I will have a surprise for you both. I only ask for a little more time, the board will soon be set for our Game.**

**Your loving brother, **

**Jaehaerys**

Her breath hitched and tears pooled into her eyes. She hastily wiped them away- Jaehaerys knew of her and Dany and he wanted them home. _He was waiting for them._

“Your Grace?” called Oswell softly.

She turned and smiled at the knight, offering the small piece of paper. “Read it, Ser.”

Ser Oswell took the note and his gaze scanned the lines. Then, he looked at her smiling. “Never doubt a Stark in their oaths. It seems we will not have to wait long before we can set sail for Westeros.”

Her smile brightened. “And I can’t wait to see him and Uncle Ned again. It had been way too long.”

* * *

**Catelyn II**

She couldn’t help, but breath a sigh of relief, once Winterfell quieted down, after Robert and the Lannisters left. But with Robert left everyone else and she was only left with Robb, little Rickon and Bran- who was still unconscious from his fall and hadn’t yet woken, despite the maester’s claim, that he should have. Of course, Cregan was here too, but only until Ben came back from The Wall with Arthur and Jaehaerys.

She knew, that allowing Bran to climb would one day cost them something, but she could never forget, how Ned and Ben said he was like a squirrel, born to climb. She’d been strict in warning him, but not enough- he’d fallen and would likely never walk again, even if he woke up.

Despite all her worries, she helped Robb run Winterfell- now that Jaehaerys was still up north, the duties were more, as there was not a single one he took over for Robb or Ned. Not a single one he helped her with, in passing.

She knew that the northerners would have never expected her to let the ‘bastard’ be taught, as a Lord, but what did they know? He would one day need all that knowledge and the Seven knew, Jon Arryn’s death might even be the start of his personal recreation of the Conquest.

_‘He even has the dragons for it, just like Aegon.’_ she thought almost laughing at the irony of it. It was as if the gods wanted a Targaryen seated on the Iron Throne.

Now she stood on the balcony overlooking the yard, taking a moment to herself, letting the crisp northern air clear her head. Her attention was perked, when she heard the distant staccato of hooves- had Jaehaerys come back already?

She barely had time to ask herself that, when she was met with the sight of three riders through the gate, with another horse, a pack secured on its back. Whatever was in it, was surely important. _‘It’s probably some Targaryen relic.’_ she mused, recalling Ned telling her, that an old Targaryen still lived at the Wall, whom Robert could never reach, due to his oaths.

She nodded to the party from where she was and turned to hurry down to meet them. A few minutes later, she hurried down the steps to the yard, her skirts gathered. “Good to see you back.” she greeted.

“Good to be back,” Benjen said, as he dismounted. But he didn’t let the stable boy lead away his horse and he took the one that carried the pack himself.

She looked at her nephew with a raised eyebrow, who by now, was as much her child, as Robb or Bran. Serena said the same- Lyanna may not be here, but they took care of him for her.

“Robb and Cregan?”

She nodded her head towards the Keep. “Inside.”

He smirked inconspicuously- a sight she’d come to dread since his heritage was known to him. “Please, call them. We’re riding out.”

She blinked at him curiously. His tone was light, but there was an underlying current of authority, befitting a king. “What for?”

“I want to tell them.” was his simple answer.

She felt as if a bucket of ice-cold water was poured on her head. “You want _what_?”

His eyes narrowed, as some of the milling inhabitants looked at them, hearing her tone. She sent them on their way with a look, shaking her head. “Jon…” The hard look on his face- so much like Ned’s, yet so different in many other ways- made her fall quiet. “It wasn’t a request, was it?” she asked quietly.

“No, it wasn’t,” he answered, his tone still light. But she could tell, there was no moving him from this course.

Since the hatching of his dragons, he was slowly easing into the role of a leader- _a king_\- and she had to admit, he was doing a good job. She remembered little of Rhaegar Targaryen, from that fateful Turney, but the more she watched her nephew, the more those faded memories came back.

“Very well.” she said. Her answer was an easy smile, the charming kind, ladies would be swooning over. He straightened atop his destrier, looking every inch the king he was, even without a crown and regalia to match his House colours.

She whirled on her heels and strode into the Keep. Time for her eldest son and Cregan to find out the truth. They’d been wondering for a while and she guessed they’d grown even more suspicious in the past year, but they hadn’t been privy to anything.

Not until today.

She found the two boys huddled in her husband’s solar, going over the expenses of Robert’s lengthy visit. She was glad Creagan had taken it upon himself to help Robb, while Jaehaerys and Ben were at the Wall.

“Aunt Cat?” called Cregan curiously, his lavender eyes locking to her blue ones.

“Boys, Jon’s back and he wants to ride out with you before Ben and Cregan go back to Moat Cailin.”

“Why would he want that _now_, of all times?” asked her son, raising an auburn eyebrow.

She gave a small smile. “Just go you two. Those papers will wait for you until you’re back. The rest I will take over, Robb.”

They shared a confused glance, before standing up and leaving her alone in a hurry. With a sigh, she wandered over to the desk to see, where the boys had left off.


	18. Cregan & Jaehaerys V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have school today, so there's an extra amount of time to write! :3

**Cregan **

Jon, despite his bastard name, was always part of their family and nothing would change that. While he knew Jon wasn’t his brother, sometimes he wondered what it would be, if he was, especially since Jon had the same silvery hair, as his mother, with similar eyes even. Tough those were closer to the hard, hawk-like gaze of Arthur Dayne.

Arthur Dayne, whose presence confused him, especially with how the knight was giving extra lessons to Jon, who would supposedly not inherit any land. It had always been a mystery, which only grew _more_ when Jon was included in the teachings of the way of the Fourteen. His mother’s Dragon Gods should have been of no importance to Jon, but in the past year, he’d grown even more attentive of anything and everything his mother said about them or Esssos and the Old Blood in general.

When they reached the yard, they found Jon astride his horse, Ser Arthur, as usual, shadowing him. If Cregan didn’t know better, he would say the Dornish was acting, like the Kingsguard he’d once been. _‘Jon as a king… huh, quite the thought. Quite impossible.’_

He took his father’s mount, while Robb was given another one. Jon, without a word, steered his stallion and Arthur Dayne was right at his heels. Himself and Robb could only ride side by side, on Jon’s left, -as Arthur was on the right- so that Robb was between him and Jon.

Once they were outside Winter Town, Jon shared a look with Ser Arthur. “Shall we, Ser?”

Creagan glanced confused at Robb. His redhead cousin was no more privy to whatever _this_ was than himself. For all he knew, Jon had always called the knight ‘uncle’.

The knight gave a small smirk. “Lead the way.”

Jon’s posture seemed to change, as he kicked his horse into a gallop. A heartbeat later, the knight followed. Cregan was forced to do the same and he heard Robb mutter about secrets. As they rode, Jon seemed to be leading, his body in complete sync with the horse- he was an excellent rider. A skill both himself and Robb envied Jon for.

_‘Isn’t there much to envy?’_ he thought wryly. Himself and Robb would be lords, while Jon would sadly, never have a trueborn name. But the way Jon rode, used a sword and played the harp well, it left much to be envied. When he asked his father about the harp- and what exactly might have driven Jon to play it- he was answered simply.

_“Your grandmother Lyarra played it skillfully. Jon has that talent, if not more of it. He doesn’t have the Stark name, like Robb, so he sought other ways to connect with the family.”_

It was silly of him to envy Jon… but each time, he played the harp for the family on their namedays, made Cregan wish his sister had some of that talent. Apparently, neither of them but Jon could make that thing sing so sweetly.

After a good few miles, Jon halted his horse and tied it to a tree, Arthur doing the same without question. It was clear to him, that the knight had come here with Jon before. He dismounted with Robb and they tied their horses as well.

However, before he could ask Jon why were they here or what was the charade, his bastard cousin rounded on them. “I suppose, you’re curious why I’ve brought you here.”

“Very much so, brother,” Robb said, echoing Cregan’s own thoughts. For the first time in many years, Jon flinched at the word ‘brother’.

“What I am to tell and show you, cannot be known by anyone. Only five people, other than Arthur know of it and I believe you know four of them.”

“Our parents,” he said, earning a nod from Jon. _‘But… who’s the fifth person, if not Ser Arthur?’_

“Swear on the Gods that you won’t breathe a word of it to _anyone_,” he said. Cregan matched his cousin’s dark violet gaze and found them burning with a fire he’d never seen before and thus could not name. Something had changed in Jon a good while ago and he was obviously- _finally_\- ready to share the reason for it.

“I swear on the Old Gods and the New. What you will tell me, will remain a secret.” Robb said.

Cregan looked at Jon and nodded. “I swear on the Old Gods and I swear in the name of Vermax the Wise, that your secret is my own.”

Jon smiled and nodded. “Do you want to hear the short version of what I have to say or the long one?”

Creagan blinked and shared an unsure glance with Robb. “The short one.” Robb finally said as they looked back at him.

Jon nodded and put his fingers into his mouth, whistling long and sharp, so that it was near deafening. He whistled two more before his hand fell to his side. “I’m not a Snow, nor I am your brother, Robb.”

Now _that_, wasn’t what Cregan would have expected to hear. Robb opened his mouth to protest, but Jon silenced him with a scratching look. “My mother was Lyanna Stark and my father was Rhaegar Targaryen. They had married in front of the Old Gods, with the approval of Queen Rhaella and Princess Elia and my true name is Jaehaerys Targaryen.”

_No. Freaking. Way. _

Then, a thunderous sound filled their ears and Cregan had to take a step back, as three looming shadows landed behind Jon (or was it Jaehaerys?). Shimmering colours… scales, wings and a massive row of black teeth.

_Dragons._

His cousin had three enormous dragons- each a different colour- behind him. Neither was as big, as the Black Dread, but their very presence was terrifying, as there hadn’t been a dragon in the world for hundreds of years.

He stumbled back, hands shaking. “How? And _when_ the hell did you hatch them?” he choked out in shook. Another part of him whispered, that they were _beautiful_, but for now, the shook was too great to marvel them.

“I found the eggs by the tomb of Lord Cregan Stark and I hatched them when Prince Oberyn was here. He along with Arthur and Lord and Lady Stark had seen the hatchlings.”

Cregan wanted to speak, though it was hard to find his voice. Even before he found it, Ser Arthur spoke. “We watched, as he walked into the blazing inferno and when the pyre burned to naught but ash, we saw, as he stood, unburnt and the three dragons with him.”

“What do you… want to do?” asked Robb. Cregan raised a curious eyebrow.

Jon, no, definitely _Jaehaerys_\- by the gods, he’ll need time to get used to his cousin having a Valyrian name, like his sister- sighed and stroked the snout of the largest of the dragons- a black and red one, matching the colours of House Targaryen.

“Jaime Lannister had stabbed Aerys in the back and no, I’ve no pity for that madman. But, he also saved my sister- Rhaenys was in Dorne, where my father had hidden mother for my birth.” he gestured at Arthur, “Arthur was one of the three to guard mother and Rhaenys. He came with me when Uncle Ned rode North. Rhaenys and Daenerys are alive and in Essos, waiting for me to move.”

Cregan sucked in a sharp breath, as he understood the meaning behind those words. “You want the Throne.”

Jo-Jaehaerys nodded. “Not for power and not for myself. Our great-grandmother was a Targaryen. Princess Vaella, her son being Lord Rickard. The Lannisters and Baratheons would kill us all- for being a Targaryen, for being related to them, one way or another or just by being associates.” here, Jaehaerys stopped for a moment and gave him a meaningful look, “Uncle Ben and Ned had risked their very House, to keep me safe. I can only keep you- and my sister and aunt- safe, if I have that Throne. It had always been my birthright and a brash drunk stole it because he could not understand, that my mother held no love for him.”

The smallest of the three dragons- the silver one- leaned closer, putting its head to Jaehaerys, as their direwolves would, in a show of affection. Cregan found it strange, how he hadn’t been knocked over. He just patted the dragon with a fond smile on his face. “I don’t want to start a war, but as things are in the Kingdoms, there might as well be one. I need to know.” he paused to look at them, his eyes burning as intensely, as before. “Will you help me?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation- there wasn’t much to think about. They were both the children of Old Valyria. His sudden answer surely surprised Jaehaerys, but his posture eased to show relief.

Then, he turned to Robb. “Robb?”

Blue locked on violet and for a second, Cregan was worried, what Robb might answer. His relationship with Jon had taken a steady decline since Theon arrived so many years ago. It wasn’t fast nor was it drastic, but it was _there_. Cregan didn’t understand, why he would trust an Ironborn over Jon. Jon might have been a bastard, but he was still a _Stark in blood_. (As it turned out, he wasn’t even a bastard. Had never been, would never be.)

Not to mention, Robb was shaking, even more shooked and probably terrified by the sight of the dragons, than himself. But then, once he tampered down his fear, he saw that steel flash in Robb’s eyes, that was often present in the eyes of his aunt and mother. Robb knelt then and Cregan’s own lips curved upwards, as he followed.

“Long live House Targaryen!” whispered Robb.

Cregan smirked at the shocked look on his cousin’s face. “Long live the King!”

* * *

After they made it back to Winterfell, Cregan insisted they visit his grandfather, to speak with him about this. Jaeahaerys wasn’t so thrilled by the idea but caved in at the end and they would leave tomorrow morning for the Whisperfort.

Ser Arthur, of course, had asked why that was necessary. Cregan smiled and patted his cousin- and unofficial king- on the shoulder. “All of us with Stark blood have to show a united front. If we do so, the North would surely follow Jaehaerys, if we tell them what they know of the Silver Prince, had been a lie, fabricated by you, to protect his and Aunt Lyanna’s heir.”

Hours later, they ate in the Lord’s solar, doing the paperwork and trying to come up with a plan, while Ser Arthur stood diligently behind Jaehaerys. Cregan would have found it unnerving, but had long gotten used to the Dornish tailing his cousin. Earlier, it didn’t make sense- but now, _now_ it was an entirely different story.

Robb, of course, had asked Arthur on the way, back. The answer was simple.

_“I’d promised his parents to take care of him. Not to mention, Kingsguard is for life.”_

Neither of them asked anything more after that. Truthfully, the silence of the ride to Winterfell was a welcome one. He needed time to wrap his mind around it all. Jon was a Targaryen- the Rightful King- and had three dragons, that seemed very capable of burning a Keep.

Robb had been even quieter and the pouty, childish look on his face was ridiculous. Did it bother him, that Jaehaerys was suddenly more important? He shook his head- no Robb wouldn’t be so… petty.

Now, hunched over a mountain of papers, Cregan wished they were out in the forest. “Jo-Jaehaerys, couldn’t you just ask one of your dragons to incinerate _this_?” he gestured at the table, full of reports and other papers.

The Targaryen just laughed. “One, you can call me Jon in private. Two, no I can’t ask them because that would likely send the entire Keep burning and we’d just have more of it later.”

Cregan sighed in disappointment… before something else popped into his mind. “You surely named your dragons. What are they called?”

Jaehaerys grinned. “They’re like my children, so _of course_, I named them. The silver one is Visegon, for my Targaryen uncle and my Blacfyre brother.”

“Blackfyre?” Robb asked.

Jaehaerys hummed. “Elia of Dorne had only one child and that’s Rhaenys. Aegon was a Blackfyre. Father had no heir, so even if they all lived I would be the Crown Prince.”

Cregan’s eyes widened. “Prince Rhaegar had no heir?”

“No. The presenting of Aegon was a ploy of Queen Rhaella and Rhaegar,” injected Ser Arthur, “to save Elia and Rhaenys from Aerys’ mad wrath. He never liked the Dornish and knowing that Elia gave no Heir to Rhaegar would have been her death sentence.”

Cregan’s jaw dropped at that. _‘Speak about being born to be king.’_ he snorted inwardly. Jon, the _lucky bastard_. Robb’s face turned into that ridiculous pout again and his eyes narrowed. Tyraxes help him if his redhead cousin started whining about this later.

“So, my dragons are,” Jaehaerys said, steering the conversation to its original topic, “Visegon, Rhaelia- for my grandmother and my mothers- and Rhaeddar for the father I could never meet and the father, who raised me.”

“You named a dragon after Uncle Ned?” he asked in disbelief.

He just smirked, leaning back in his seat. “Of course.”

“Wait a second.” Robb cut in, his voice sharp. “Did you say _mothers_?”

Jaehaerys smiled fondly. “Princess Elia thought of mother, as a sister. She addressed me in her letter, as her son and her daughter _is_ my sister, so yes, she’s my mother too.”

Cregan rubbed his face. “Woah, weird family you have.”

He rolled his eyes. “You say it as if _you_ didn’t have Dragonlord blood, Cregan.”

“I never said, I have a problem with your name. I said you have a weird family, besides, I never said mine was better, considering mother. Probably her side isn’t better, than the Targaryens.” he shrugged. “The difference is not knowing, I suppose.”

“We’re getting sidetracked!” Robb huffed, as he picked at the morsels on his plate. “So… what about the Throne?”

Jaehaerys shrugged. “We wait. Lord Arryn, as it appears, had been killed by the Lannisters. That will eventually come to light and we might even find out _why_ they killed him. It might be a good opportunity, to make for the Throne.”

Cregan choked on his drink. “Lord Arryn was killed by the Lannisters?”

“Lady Arryn sent Aunt Cat a letter, just a few days after the Usurper arrived. She was convinced they killed him.”

It was strange, hearing Jaehaerys say ‘Aunt Cat’, but he supposed the Lady of Winterfell had allowed it, after this whole thing had come out. He really wasn’t surprised- not after the dragons. After those, very few things could be surprising.

It was even stranger to have him call Robert Baratheon ‘Usrper’- but, as things were at the moment, he truly was. The fat drunk sat on the Throne, which should belong to his cousin.

Robb groaned, rubbing his face. “I hate politics and I hate this. Why do things have to go to shit, when we were so content?”

“It always happens when you’re the most content.” Ser Arthur said, his fingers idly playing with the hilt of _Dawn_, his tone ominous. Why in the name of Vhagar did the knight have his sword drawn within the Keep, Cregan didn’t know, but he wasn’t about to question it. It might be some nervous reaction of his. Not that he blamed the man- not with what they knew now.

He was about to say something, when a guard burst through the door, sending Arthur alert, his blade ready, stepping between the door and his cousin. It was one of their guards.

“My Lords, the tower is burning!”

Cregan’s heart skipped a beat and then, the four of them sprung from their spots at once.

* * *

**Jaehaerys V**

The fire had been put out, but the castle was still in frenzy- as it appeared, the fire had been a distraction. While they were preoccupied with putting it out, a cutthroat attacked Bran. Luckily, Aunt Catelyn and Bran’s nameless Direwolf had been there to save them.

Now, they were in the Lord’s solar again gazing worriedly at the dagger, that had nearly killed Bran and left a nasty wound on Aunt Catelyn’s hand. The hilt was richly decorated, the blade shining with a dark light.

“Valyrian Steel,” he said, glaring at the dagger, hoping it would kill its owner. “A mercenary has no resources for a blade like that. Someone gave it to him, to kill Bran.”

“Who would want to kill Bran and why?” Cregan asked, his voice full of confusion.

Aunt Catelyn glared at the dagger. “A Lannister probably. They don’t want Ned down sought.”

His head hurt. As if killing Jon Arryn hadn’t been enough. _‘Oh by the Gods! The last Hand had been killed! What if I sent uncle to his death?’_

“We’ve to warn uncle,” Cregan said. “Someone has to tell him what’s going on.”

“I’m going.” his aunt said, eyes hard.

He looked at her and shook his head. “A woman alone on the road? Not exactly a safe thing, Aunt Cat. Most of your way you’d be North, before taking a ship, but it’s still dangerous.”

“Someone has to…” she protested.

He glared at her. “_Someone_. Not you.”

“I have friends in the capital,” she said.

Jaehaerys frowned. “Excuse me, but at this moment, I’m having trust issues. Useless its someone who’s related by blood, I say we don’t trust them.”

“Well said, Jon.” Robb murmured, giving his mother a look. “And I don’t want you in danger either, mother. I have enough to worry about already.”

“I’ll go,” Creagan said, not even letting anyone speak.

“Son…” Uncle Benjen cut in. Cregan gave him a look.

“I’d rather go myself than let Aunt Catelyn go, father. I’ll go and tell Uncle Ned what’s happened and I’ll warn them of the Lannisters…” he trailed of, glancing at him. Jaehaerys gave a small grin, “But he’d know not to trust them, probably. He’s been hiding a Dragon all these years, after all.”

“Very well, son. Be safe.”

Jaehaerys sighed. At least his aunt would be safe. “Don’t get lost on the way there.”

Cregan snorted, as he grabbed the dagger from the desk. “Very unlikely, dear cousin.”

“At least, take a few men with you,” Robb said. “Just two or three. I’d feel better.”

Cregan gave a nod. “Alright. I’ll pack quickly, get a few men and I’ll be riding straight for Whisperfort. One of our ships would take me there and probably even wait if I asked the captain.”

“Cregan.” Arthur called. He’d been silent until now, so hearing him speak was a bit of a surprise.

“Yes, Ser?”

“Do us all a favor and ask Lord Stark, if he’d spoken with Lord Varys.”

“I will, but who’s this Varys?”

Arthur smirked. “A Loyalist, who’d made Baratheon believe, he served House Baratheon. Varys is the reason we know of the Princess’. He’s been our source of information from the capitol for all these years.”

Cregan shook his head amused and smirked at him. “Didn’t know you had so many ready to raise the banner for you, Jaehaerys.”

He shrugged- he hadn’t either. “Probably for father,” he muttered. “And grandmother Rhaella.”

“So, find Uncle Ned, warn him and ask him for information on Jae’s sister.”

He blinked. “Did you just call me ‘Jae’?”

Creagan shrugged. “Jaehaerys is annoyingly long, no offense. So yes, I called you Jae.”

He glared and Cregan looked to be ready to burst with laughter. “For the sake of your safety, dear cousin, you call me _Jon_, alright?” he growled out, hand pointedly slipping towards his sword.

He sighed. “You’re no fun.” he glared even harder and Cregan raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, Jon it is… Your Grace.”

_‘Oh you little…’_ he looked around, for something to throw and found a book on the desk. He reached for it, but by the time his fingers closed around its spine, Cregan was already out of the solar, his shoulder shaking with silent laughter on the way.

His eye twitched. “You little…”

“You know,” Uncle Benjen’s amused voice said, cutting off his thoughts, “you’ll have to get used to that, eventually. You can’t even say we’re family because there will be time, that even for us, calling you by your title would be the proper thing.”

He huffed, letting go of the book. “Yes, I know that. But that’s not _now_, uncle. Not yet.”

“But soon, Your Grace.” Arthur muttered. “Soon.”

A part of him wanted to glare at the knight for calling him that, but he didn’t. After all, it was true- if things continued to spiral down, like they were now, he’d have to move soon and take up the crown. _‘And then, I’d be able to see my sister and aunt.’_

His irritation fell forgotten and he could only pray to the gods, he’d see his family united soon.


	19. Eddard V & Jaehaerys VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of this chapter is based on the books and I don't own that, though with some changes, due to copyright and all that.  
The next chapter would be a big time-jump, to the end of the first book, where Robb was declared King in the North...

**Eddard V**

When they finally arrived into the city, he couldn’t help, but breath a sigh of relief. The journey south could have gone _better_, but then again, he was surrounded by Lannisters and as it seemed, the Queen didn’t like him, just as he didn’t like her.

Sansa and Arya were still in a bad mood, for losing their direwolves- of course, he would never kill the animal, that was the sigil of his House, so instead, they’d let the wolves into the wilderness of the Riverlands. Worse was, that Sansa was already head over heels Joffrey Baratheon and had almost gotten Nymeria killed in an attempt, to get on the good side of Cersei Lannister.

He was glad, that he managed to intervene and thus, secretly save the wolves. But even if he had killed them, he would never let Cersei have the pelt. And as it seemed, Robert was more on Cersei’s side, than he would have believed. Tywin Lannister had apparently whispered too much into his ear, even with Jon Arryn around.

_‚Jon... who’d most likely been killed by the Lannisters, for the Old Gods know what. But whatever it is, the Lannisters are worried about it being known.‘_

When he finally dismounted, the first thing was, that he was being summoned to a Small Council meeting. He gave the lad an irate look.

„Tell the council I will be there, once I’ve changed into more appropriate clothing.“ he said. The boy nodded furiously and scurried back into the Keep.

* * *

Once he was changed, he headed for the Small Council chambers. Everyone was already seated- Pycelle, Baelish, and Varys-, only he was missing and... Robert. (Ser Barristan, as the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, was also missing, but he wasn’t surprised. Barristan had been a Loyalist until the Targaryen forces fell, so Robert was most likely wary of him.)

„Greetings, Lord Stark. Your journey had been a hard one. We’ve been praying for the recovery of our Prince, since we’ve heard.“ Varys said.

Looking at the bald man, Ned could see nothing out of place, yet something told him, Varys wouldn’t have minded, if Nymeria tore at Joffrey’s troath instead of his hand. After seeing the Prince for himself, on the way here, he wished for the same. The boy had something unsettling about him, which, with time, could turn into madness and cruelty matching that of Aerys.

„Your gods have heard you. The Prince is recovering well.“

Seeing Renly Baratheon, Ned had to make a double-take. The youngest of the brothers looked just as Robert had when they were growing up with Jon Arryn and in the early days of the Rebellion, when he still foolishly believed, Lyanna had been taken. (Lyanna, who would have gutted a man with bare hands, if they tried taking advance of her. Oh, how foolish he’d been!)

„I see you arrived safely.“ said the young Baratheon.

„As have you, Lord Renly. Forgive me, but you look so much like a young Robert, that it is startling.“

Renly shrugged. „A poor copy.“

Littlefinger’s lips curved at that. „Though much better dressed. He spends more on clothing than some of the ladies.“

Quiet chuckles ran through the room, but it was true. The fine silken and velvet clothes looked expensive indeed. „There were worse crimes before.“ Renly said, „Like how you dress, for one.“ he said in a much quieter tone.

It was either unheard or ignored by Baelish, not that Ned cared too much. The sooner he was done with this, the sooner he could rest. Baelish himself was smiling sharply, that greatly unsettled Ned. „I’ve hoped to meet you for a long while, Lord Stark. No doubt, your lady wife had mentioned me.“

He didn’t twitch at all, but if his tone dropped a few degrees below freezing, it wasn’t really his fault. „That she had as had Brandon. I understand well you've known my brother?“

Littlefinger twitched and Renly laughed. „Rather too well, My Lord. Had he spoken of me?“

He leveled his grey eyes on the sitting Lord. Quite interestingly, his sigil seemed to be a mockingbird. „Often and with some heat.“

„I should have known, that the heat does not suit you Starks, lest you melt in the sun.“

„I do not plan on melting soon, Lord Baelish.“ he said, trying to keep his tone level. He had no patience for this game of words.

Taking a deep, calming breath, he walked over to his seat, nodding to the old rat, that was Pycelle. If he remembered correctly, this was the man, who encouraged Aerys to open his gates to Tywin Lannister. _‚Someone, who‘s not to be trusted.‘ _He made a mental note to have the man removed from around his nephew, if he lived long enough, to see Jaehaerys in a crown. He would not have rats scurrying about his family.

„Maester Pycelle, I hope your health serves you well.“

The old man nodded. „It does, though, in my old age, I do tire easily. I fear I shall fall asleep if we wait any longer.“

„As you will.“ he said, glancing at the seat with the crowned stag on it- the seat of the King, that remained empty. He sat on its right. „My Lords, apologies for keeping you waiting.“

„You are the King’s Hand. We serve at your pleasure, Lord Stark.“ Varys said.

Glancing around, he soon realised, that he didn’t belong here. As it was- ironically,- the only person he could trust to any degree, was Varys himself. He never wanted to be Hand and if he ever imagined taking it up... well, in his head, it _definitely_ wasn’t during the times, when the walls and the towers flew the crowned stag of Baratheon. He would have preferred seeing the dragon of Targaryens, but for now, that was wishful thinking.

He’d have to wait._ ‚And when that happens, I don’t intend to be Hand for long. It’s just not for me- I hope Jaehaerys would find himself a fitting Lord to fill the position.‘_

„We’re but five.“ he pointed out after a short silence.

„Lord Stannis set sail for Dragonstone and Ser Barristan surely rides beside King Robert.“ Varys said.

„Perhaps we should wait for Robert.“ he suggested calmly.

Renly laughed. „It would be a long sit, Lord Stark and I’d imagine you’d like to rest after your long journey.“

„The King has many cares.“ Baelish said, „He entrusts the small matters to us, to lighten his load.“

„What Lord Baelish means to say,“ Renly injected, „that this business of crops and coin bores my brother to tears. We handle most of it, though he does send a command from time to time. Like how he instructed me to ride here and have the Maester call this meeting.“ he pulled a rolled parchment from his sleeve, offering it to Ned.

Ned took it and unrolled it, reading through it. His eyes went wide. Has Robert gone mad or was he truly this foolish? „Gods be good.“ he growled out.

„What Lord Stark intends to say, that King Robert instructs us to stage a tournament in the name of his Hand.“

„How much?“ asked Littlefinger.

Ned quickly scanned the letter again and did the counting. „Ninety thousand Gold Dragons.“

„Will the treasury bear the expenses?“ asked Pycelle.

Littlefinger snorted. „Spare us the foolishness. What treasury? It had been empty for years. We owe Lord Tywin three million already, what is another hundred thousand?“

Ned’s head hurt. „Are you telling me the crown is in three million debt?“

Varys shook his head. „It’s more than _six_ million. Most of it from the Lannisters, but we also owe to the Iron Bank of Braavos and countless others.“

_‚Six million Gold Dragons? Have you lost your mind, Robert?‘_ he paused. He’d known Robert wasn’t fit to be king- he’d known that, since the Grayjoy Rebellion,- but to see such a proof of it...

„Aerys Targaryen’s treasury was overflowing with gold. What had happened?“ he asked, looking at Littlefinger.

The Master of Coin shrugged. „The Master of Coin finds the gold and the King and the Hand spend it.“

„I doubt Jon Arryn allowed Robert to turn the Realm into beggars.“ he returned hotly. That was not the man he’d known his foster father as.

The old maester shook his head. „Lord Arryn was wise, but His Grace didn’t always listen to his advice.“

He was tired, hungry and pissed, beyond belief. At least, Aerys Targaryen, for all his madness, had money. Rhaella and Rhaegar had seen to the general well-being of the Kingdoms, even if- according to Arthur,- often behind Aerys’ back.

„I’ll speak with Robert.“ he said, „we cannot afford such expenses.“

„Speak with him all you want, Lord Stark.“ Renly said, leaning back in his seat, „we best make plans still.“

„Another day.“ he said icily. All those around him, gave him look. He sighed- he’d have to remember, that he was no longer in Winterfell. Robert was the king and he was merely the Hand. „Forgive me, my Lords. But I am tired and hungry. Shall we continue another day?“

He didn’t wait for their answer, merely stood from his seat and nodded to them, before he strode out.

* * *

**Jaehaerys VI**

The suffering expression on his cousin’s face was most enjoyable, he decided.

Aunt Catelyn had said, that Robb had been arranged to wed Lady Alys Karstark, to strengthen the two Houses ties- and to placate the louder Lords, who were muttering about both Stark brothers taking ‚southron‘ wives. Tough he heard Aunt Serena fuming, that she was _not_ a southron- and that she had _more_ _northern_ blood in her veins than Catelyn.

She was comely, but not his type- though he could see, that Robb had different thoughts. She had blue-gray eyes and the dark brown hair and long face of Starks. The epitome of a Northern Lady. He was sure Robb was a bit saddened, that his father couldn’t be here for the wedding, but it had been decided, that the best course of action was, for them to wed, before he made a move for his throne, to have the North firmly behind them.

With Robb marrying Alys and possibly Arya marrying Prince Trystane, as part of the agreement with Dorne, he couldn’t help, but wonder, whom Sansa would marry. He was sure his aunt wouldn’t let Bran and Rickon be dragged into marriage yet, as they were too young.

He scurried past the dancing, obnoxious men and women, gathered to celebrate the couple and appeared right next to his aunt. „Aunt Cat.“ he greeted quietly. Tough, even if he spoke louder, his voice would have been lost to the laughter and music.

„Jon.“ she greeted with a smile. „Enjoying yourself?“

He shrugged. „More like wondering whom Sansa would marry. I know Robb had to marry for the North and Arya would soon meet Prince Trystane, but what of Sansa?“

She shook her head. „I’m not sure, maybe the Tyrell heir. They were Loyalists. How about you?“

He frowned. He knew what people thought about the Targaryen tradition, but with his dragons, preserving the magic of their line was important. Not to mention, the more he dreamed about Rhae and Dany- because the dreams were now regular, he would see them at least once a week,- the more he fell for them. He loved them and not exactly in the normal westerosi way...

„You’re thinking of marrying your sister, perhaps?“ he looked at her. There was no judgment in her tone, only curiosity.

„You know about my dreams of them, right?“ she raised an eyebrow and nodded.

„Serena said, that some Valyrians had those dreams and that there were members of your House, who were known for those dreams, Daenys being the most known. And Ben mentioned something about Green Dreams too.“

He shook his head. „Mine aren’t exactly like those. I don’t see the future, per se, just a part of it. A scene, where I can meet with them and exchange a few words. But its always the three of us, dressed as the rulers, with my dragons around us.“

She hummed. „I see. So marrying your sister, that is. I’m not going to judge if you think you could be happy together.“

„Probably both of them and not just Rhae.“ he murmured. His aunt smiled but shook her head in disbelief too. „What is it?“

Her lips curled into an amused smile. „After seeing your dragons, I thought you’d be like the Conqueror, with a bit different background. And now, just like him and your father, you’re planning on wedding two women.“

„If they agree, that is.“ he muttered.

She gave him a look. „I don’t think they’d mind it- Queen of the Seven Kingdoms is a title, that’s worth it. And considering your House traditions and your current state, they’d probably will be happy to know, it wouldn’t die with the three of you.“ she giggled again, „Not to mention, if you turn as protective of them, as you did of Arya, it would spare many lives of the Lords of Westeros. I heard Ned saying you had a word with Prince Oberyn about that agreement.“

His cheeks flushed pink. „She’s my wild little sister, no matter what. Plus, if they agree and they don’t have to wed someone else, there would be no hands on the throne and I could make sure the Targaryens would rule even after us. Plus, it would placate Dorne, seeing Rhaenys as Queen- I wouldn’t have to worry about them backstabbing me or something.“

„Wise move, even if unconventional. But the Tyrells might not agree to Sansa’s marriage. They’d wanted the throne for too long.“

He nodded. „Arthur told me as much and that’s why I was also considering marrying both of them. To leave the Tyrells no opening. They want to be important in the Game, so Arthur said and I think, I might have a solution for that, but I’ll ask Rhae and Dany, once they’re home.“

He could see the curiosity flashing in her blue eyes. „And what that solution might be?“

He smiled at her. „Let that be my secret until we move. Let it be said, that grandmother Rhaella had given me the idea and it is something, that is due House Stark for more than a hundred years.“

As he slipped out of the hall- Arthur inconspicuously following- he could feel his aunt’s curious gaze boring into his back.

„Is there a reason for leaving so early?“ asked Arthur. He didn’t quite say it, but Jaehaerys could hear the ‚Your Grace‘ at the end, nonetheless. Arthur was still family.

„Aye, _uncle_.“ he said pointedly and Arthur had the decency to look sheepish. „I’d need some help and with the lot preoccupied with the feast, we can search through the library.“

„What for, exactly?“

He grinned at the knight. „I’d need a document to accompany the last decree of my grandmother before Our House had been dethroned. We owe it to House Stark, after all.“


	20. Jaime V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It should be his day off... but if you're a Targaryen loyalist behind your family's back, there is no such thing, as rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, originally I wanted to jump to the part, where Robb calls the banners to free his father, but after someone mentioned the possible changes by Catelyn staying and Cregan going to the capitol, I decided to write it.  
A short chapter, compared to the previous ones, but I'm satisfied anyway.

**Jaime V**

It was his day off and he was glad for it. Robert had a row with Stark about the treasury- and he was right there, listening to every word. He’d known, that Robert‘s extravagance would eventually cost a lot... but he hadn’t known, the debt was _six_ _million_. He wasn’t one for numbers and papers, but even he understood, that just in a year, his father would have the Iron Throne in his grasp financially.

_‚If he doesn’t already have it...‘_ he thought sullenly. He prayed to the Seven, that Rhaegar’s son knew his numbers well enough, to set the Realm straight, once he became king. If the Kingdoms weren’t already in a mountain of debt, he would have demanded a pay rise for the Kingsguard, as compensation for the headache they all seemed to be having, for a few years now, courtesy of Robert’s folly.

Who knew, that being a Kingsguard- what everyone said was goddamn _boring_\- could be such a _stressful_ duty?

He sighed. _‚And that’s why I’m happy about my day off. A little break from Robert’s bull-headedness. At least, I wouldn’t have to stand Cersei or hearing Stark plead with the bastard about gold. No matter what Stark says, Robert won’t change. Though I understand he wants to leave a relatively stable Realm in Targaryen hands, but that’s impossible at this point.‘_

He was walking down the street, in simple clothes, observing the people, just as Rhaegar had done once. Like this, when he was a commoner in their eyes, it was easier to hear their problems... not that he could do much, other than occasionally giving a Gold Dragon to orphans or others, who were in dire need. Plus, he enjoyed the lively streets, compared to the silence, that often came with guarding the royals- well, useless Robert was pissed or had a serving girl in his chambers.

Lost in thought, he collided with someone.

„Oh, my apologies...“ the lad looked up and Jaime froze. Lavender eyes.

Only the Targaryens had that particular shade. _‚Or Greystark’s heir.‘_ he thought, as he took a better look. The boy had long face and messy dark brown hair. And while his eyes were of Valyria, something just screamed _northerner_ about him.

He grabbed the lad’s arm. „A word if you would, lad.“ he said, leading him towards an alley.

„Hey, I apologised...“

„Shut it, _wolf_.“ he growled. The boy’s eyes went wide with shook. He stopped, once they reached a forgotten enough alley and turned towards the boy. „What are you doing so far from the North, Greystark?“

„How do you know my name?“ the lad’s posture went rigid, his hand reaching for his sword, which was rather well-hidden under his clothes.

He looked at the boy in the eyes. „Don’t tell me I’m so forgettable, that you don’t recognise me, without my Kingsguard finery.“

There was a moment of confused silence before the lavender orbs widened. „Jaime Lannister.“

He nodded. „And you’re Benjen Greystark’s heir. What are you doing here?“

The boy glared at him, his tone icy. „My name is _Cregan_ and I’m here to speak with my uncle.“

He raised an eyebrow. „The Lord Hand is a busy man.“

The glare sharpened and a tiny shiver ran down Jaime’s spine. The boy had surely brought something with him, from his cold home. „It’s an important family matter.“

He wondered if he’d been privy to the secret the Starks had. „Wolf or Dragon?“

The lad was fast, Jaime gave him that, for someone so inexperienced. In a blink, his sword was drawn, the point lightly touching the soft skin of his neck. Of course, he could escape or disarm the boy faster, than he could inflict harm, but he didn’t want to. „So you know of it.“

„_How do you know, Kingslayer?_“ he snarled, very much like a wolf.

„He looks just like his father, your cousin.“ he said lightly. „And before my sword was buried in _his_ back, the Queen told me of the plan. I always knew, where your aunt was.“

Shook filtered trough his face, before he lowered his blade. „You knew even then. In Winterfell.“ he breathed. „And you hadn’t told the King.“

Jaime snorted. „Curious, you draw your sword at me for mentioning them, yet you call Robert king. Well, I tell you, he’s no king of mine.“ he took a step back. „Now out with it. What are you doing here?“

„I came to speak with my uncle.“ he repeated again, his tone still wary.

„Sheath your sword, lad.“ he said, turning on his heels. „I’ll take you to him, without none being the wiser, but once you are done, leave, for your presence will draw attention. People will ask questions and questions are never good in dark times.“

The Greytark sheathed his blade, but he was still tense. „Why should I trust you?“

„Because you know, that I know, _who_ he is. Yet, instead of being in a cell or being dead, he sits in the keep, planning his little conquest, I’d assume.“

After a heartbeat of silence, the lad sheathed his blade and nodded at him. „Lead the way then, Ser.“

Lead he did.

They went in the back alleys, hidden by shadows, until they reached the Red Keep. He could hear the surprised gasp of the Greystark at the sheer size of it. Getting into the keep itself was trickier, but he knew it, like the back of his hand, by now, just as he knew the timing of the patrols. For once, he thanked the Seven for Maegor’s paranoia, as they could use a few of the secret passageways to get about, without being seen.

„I didn’t know there were secret passages.“ he murmured.

Jaime glanced back, to make sure the lad was following close behind. „Maegor Targaryen was very much the cruel and paranoid man, history speaks of him, as. But he had many enemies, so his paranoia was reasonable, to a point.“

„And where are you taking me, exactly?“

Jaime huffed. „The Tower of the Hand, where Stark has been accommodated.“

They took a few more turns, a flight of twisting stairs and then Jaime stopped. For once, he was grateful, that Varys had mapped this stupid hidden maze out, for his sake. He placed a hand on the wall to his left and felt out the brick. He pressed it and with a soft, barely audible rumbling, the door opened.

Once the door was completely open, he placed the torch on the wall and brushed away the heavy tapestry, hung on the wall to hide the entrance. As he did, the sunlight streaked in. He shoved the lad ahead and stepped out himself.

„What in the name of gods?“ came another voice, that was much more familiar to Jaime. The voice of Eddard Stark. And true enough, once they both stumbled into the room, there stood the Warden of the North with his ancestral blade, _Ice,_ already drawn.

„Cregan? Jaime Lannister.“ he growled out lowly. „What is the meaning of this?“

Jaime shrugged. „Your nephew wanted to meet you and I thought it would be wise to bring him to meet you, without the court knowing of his presence. I met him in the city.“

„Cregan?“ Stark asked, turning to his nephew.

„We had some problems back at home and we decided you should know.“ he answered simply.

Stark raised an eyebrow. „What problem?“

„One of our towers burned at Winterfell.“ he stated. „Someone used the fire as a distraction, to try killing Bran.“ he pulled out an orate, Valyrian Steel dagger. „Bran’s wolf killed the cutthroat, but we should look into it...“

He gave the dagger to Stark and Jaime’s breath hitched. „What now, Lannister?“

„I know that dagger.“ he said numbly. To think Cersei would sink so low...

„Whose it?“ Cregan growled out.

Jaime took a deep breath to clear his thoughts. „Lancel’s. Lancel had won it off me years ago. He received Cersei’s favour and I was kind of pissed and if I was to lose, the dagger would be his. Ser Barristan unhorsed me and he won the melee, so I had to give the dagger to Cersei. And Cersei gave it to Lancel.“

„And why would the Queen want my cousin dead?“ Jaime raised an eyebrow at the lad. He had to admit, he had some spunk.

„Cersei is no Queen and we know it.“ he hissed lowly. „As for why? Your cousin was at the wrong place, at the wrong time.“

„What are you talking about, Kingslayer?“ Stark growled.

Jaime’s fist clenched. If he wasn’t working on proving Jaehaerys he was trustworthy, he would have cut one of Stark’s fingers, each time he was called ‚Kingslayer‘. For the sake of all existing gods! He’d killed Aerys, to save the city, could he not understand that?

„I’ll tell you later. Hide that dagger well, for if one of Cersei’s little spies find it, you’re dead, Stark. I’d loathe telling the _king_ you died, due to your folly.“

Stark’s gray eyes narrowed on him, but he nodded, before glancing at his nephew. „Can you get Cregan out of here unnoticed?“

He smirked. Stark’s eye twitched a little- for all he wanted Jaehaerys to trust him, he just couldn’t pass up an opportunity, to annoy Stark. It was just too easy. „I’ve been helping Varys for nearly as long, as you’ve been hiding _him_. None will know he’d been here.“

„Uncle...“

„You’re not staying any longer, Cregan.“ Stark cut him off sharply. „I have the dagger and I will be careful. But you should not be here. The sooner you leave, the safer we all are.“

The lad sighed. „Very well. Be careful.“

„Safe journey.“

Jaime stepped to the tapestry and pulled it away, nodding towards the corridor. „Get going, wolf. I would like to rest, this is supposed to be my day off.“

„We make sacrifices for Dragons, _Ser_.“ the lad bit back. Jaime glared, but didn’t say anything. He’d long ago learned, that people judged him for killing Aerys- they didn’t seem to care, that he’d done it to save countless innocents.

Stark’s eyes went wide. „Cregan...“

The lad stopped and rolled his eyes. „He told me and Robb. _We’ll help him._“

Jaime paused and watched for a second. It wasn’t a statement- Cregan was on the brink of ordering his uncle and Lord to do something. He was treading on thin ice, it seemed. Stark just sighed. „What do you think, why am I in this _godforsaken_ city?“

Triumph flashed in those Targaryen-like orbs. „Glad to know we think the same. Stay safe, uncle.“ and without waiting for an answer, he slipped into the passageway. Jaime was halfway in the passage himself, when Stark called after him.

„Ser.“ he blinked in shook- he would have expected to be called ‚Kingslayer‘ again. He glanced back at the Lord.

„What is it?“

„Thank you for bringing him and maybe you’d tell me what happened that day?“

He raised a golden eyebrow at the Lord Paramount. Was Stark giving him the benefit of doubt, after so many years of contempt? Was he willing to change his view? „Maybe one day, when we aren’t threading on such thin ice.“ he answered tersely, before slipping into the tunnel and leaving the Hand alone with his thoughts.

Now, he had to get out this wolf and maybe afterward, he could finally have some rest. _‚So much for a day off.‘_ he grumbled to himself.


	21. Eddard VI

A few days after Cregan’s unexpected visit, Ned was buried in the thick tome, that Jon Arryn had read, for some reason, before he died. He was leafing through the book, but he hadn’t yet found anything of note.

He sighed in frustration and took a sip of his Arbour gold. Suddenly, something moved to the side and he perked up. The tapestry hung on the wall- someone was behind the secret door. Who would it be, so late at night?

He stood up, warily, reaching for the dagger buried under his papers- gods knew he was ruling the goddamn Realm, while Robert whored and drank his day away. He moved, but stopped, once he caught sight of Jaime Lannister there. He really had no patience for the knight now, but he really should have expected a visit, after how they parted last time.

„Ser.“

The knight nodded, green eyes flickering to the dagger. „Greetings, Lord Stark. I come for that conversation we’d agreed upon. That is, useless you will attack me.“

Ned sighed and walked back to his seat and dropped the dagger on a pile of documents. He looked at the Lannister. „Now I’m unarmed. Shall we, then?“ he asked tersely, gesturing at a chair. Jaime gave him a look, but sat down anyway and Ned grabbed a cup and poured him some wine.

Jaime raised an eyebrow at him, as he sat down. „You know, that as a Kingsguard, I don’t drink, most of the time, right?“

„I know that. But you’re not on duty.“ he said, gesturing at the blonde’s clothes- he was wearing fine clothes, like any noble would and not his Kingsguard armor. Jaime shrugged then and took a sip of his wine.

„So, do tell Lord Stark, what is that you wish to know?“

Ned gave him a look. „Everything.“

„Alright.“ he agreed, a bit reluctantly. „Then, I believe I should start with the fact, that I knew about Rhaegar marrying your sister. A few days after the Tourney of Harrenhall, Queen Rhaella called me to her solar and told me, that Aegon wasn’t Elia’s son, so Rhaegar was without an heir. She told me, that she and Elia had both agreed to the marriage and that Elia had even gone to the Isle of Faces, to see the ceremony. The man, who wed them... I believe he was Septon Maynard and you’ll find his papers of the marriage in Oldtown.“

Ned raised an eyebrow. „Meticulous.“

Jaime shrugged. „Neither Rhaegar nor Elia wanted things to go, as they had. Queen Rhaella had said, that it had been discussed seriously between them and that it was Princess Elia, who encouraged Rhaegar. She said, that she knew, how Aerys was harming the Queen and that she wouldn’t sleep at night, knowing that a wild, spirited girl like Lyanna was harmed and dishonored by the likes of Robert Baratheon.“

Ned groaned. Jaime had barely started telling anything and his head was already pounding.

„Elia had gone back to the capitol with the Queen, but she encouraged Rhaegar to spend time with Lyanna. They stayed on the Isle, before eventually sailing for Dragonstone, where they spent the majority of their time. Elia stated, that she even saw Lyanna write the letters, meant for you, as she wrote them on the Isle.“

Ned’s eyes widened. „There were no letters at all.“

„Obviously.“ Jaime said. „Robert wouldn’t have accepted if Lyanna went on her own violation, I suppose. He called kidnapping and your father and brother rode here. They ended up dead and when Aerys called for your and Baratheon’s head, the Rebellion officially broke out. Lyanna was pregnant, so Arthur, Oswell, and Gerold escorted her to Dorne, as Princess Elia said, it will be the safest for her. She and Rhaegar had gone back to the capitol. Rhaegar went off to fight, but Aerys in his madness didn’t allow Elia to go. Before he departed, Rhaegar asked me to secret both of them away, as the Blackfyre boy was under Aerys‘ constant guard, so he can’t be saved, regardless of what we might try. By the time we caught wind of my father riding here to ‚aid‘ Aerys, Queen Rhaella had luckily left. After I heard, that Pycelle convinced Aerys to open the gates, I sneaked to Elia’s apartments. I told her what was going on and she asked me to take Rhaenys. I wanted her to come, but she said I would come back for her later- that I will be faster without her. I took Rhaenys out fo the Red Keep, trough the secret tunnels, while Varys found a girl, who looked enough like the Princess. By the time I reached the docks, a small ship had already been arranged and it took Rhaenys to her only remaining family, where she could possibly be safe. Dorne, where my sworn brothers were guarding your sister.“

His head hurt. He rubbed his face and took a sip of his wine. After a short silence, he looked back at the blonde. „Why did you kill Aerys?“

„After he dismissed my father, his new Hand became a man named Rossart. He was a pyromancer.“ Ned’s eyes widened at that. „He had many of those in the city before, much to the worry of court, not that we could do anything. Not even Rhaegar could.“

„Gods be good.“ he groaned. „He was really mad.“

Jaime snorted. „You don’t even know _half_ of it, Stark. There were hundreds, if not thousands of wildfire containers under the city, at strategic points.“

_„What?“_ his eyes widened.

„You heard me. When he was informed, that Rhaegar fell at the Trident, he burned the messenger.“

_‚He was raving mad.‘_ Ned thought numbly.

„After he realised, that my father was helping Robert, he ordered his Hand to light the containers and burn King’s Landing. I still remember his last words- I was the only one of the Kingsguard in the city and I stood right next to the Iron Throne when those words left his mouth. ‚_Burn them! Burn them all!‘ _He didn’t want anyone to have the capital if he could not. _‚They betrayed me. If I cannot rule, they shan’t either. Let them burn and rule a pile of ashes.‘ _Even remembering those words makes my blood run cold.“

Ned’s blood felt like ice in his body.

„I killed Rossart first and then I killed him.“ for the first time since he started speaking, Jaime’s tone dropped. „I had to choose between my vow and thousands of innocents. The knights‘ code says we are to protect the weak and innocent. The vow of Kingsguard says we are to protect the King. Even if that King rapes his own sister-wife. When he called for the city’s burning, when the rebel forces flooded the streets, I knew, which one I had to choose. So, to save _everyone_ I buried my sword into his back.“

It was only by sheer will, that he kept his mouth shut. Aerys would have burned the city...

The city, that by then, was full of people of both sides. The city _he was in_, by then. He stared at Jaime’s face, clean of any emotion. _‚He saved us all. He saved us all and he’s scorned for it...‘_

Jaime glared then, as he seemed to realise, that he was looking straight at him. „Call me Kingslayer all you want, Stark, but I don’t regret killing Aerys. I never will. The only regret I have is that I couldn’t save Princess Elia.“

Ned sighed and drank his remaining wine in one go. Once his cup was empty, he looked into Jaime’s green eyes. „It seems, Ser, I owe you an apology. You were only a few years older than my son at the time. You broke your vows, but I can see now, that Aerys was not a man to deserve those vows. You did the right thing. I don’t know if I could have done that.“

There was a heartbeat of silence before he spoke again. „You did the right thing and saved us all. It very much seems you should be a hero, instead.“

Jaime snorted. „But I’m not and even today, I spend my days guarding a man, who will lead the Realm to ruin, as Aerys had, while Rhaegar’s heir is out there.“ he said quietly.

Ned stiffened. Did Jaime know? His hand moved for the dagger again...

„I’ve known about him, since the arrival in Winterfell. Even before that- Varys kept me updated.“ he said, his green eyes never vawering. „I’ve known since he was born, yet he is alive- I will not tell anyone. I swore to Rhaegar before he rode for the Trident and I will keep that vow.“

Ned watched him, but there was no trace of lies in his tone. He was telling the complete truth.

„I will give you the benefit of doubt, Ser.“ he eventually said. „But shall you try harming _anyone_ I care about, I will personally kill you.“

Jaime nodded. „A start, I suppose. Tough, you don’t have to worry about that. We’re working towards the same goal.“

Ned raised an eyebrow. „Now, are we?“

Jaime gave him a nod and patted the thick tome he’d been reading. „Take this back where it is from and forget it. Give the least possible reason to Cersei. If she suspects you, you’re as dead, as Arryn.“

Ned’s eyes widened. „She killed Jon?“

Jaime leaned back in his seat. „I suppose. He had, after all, figured out Cersei’s little secret.“

Ned’s eyes narrowed. _„Secret?“_

Jaime rubbed his face. „Robert’s been whoring since he was crowned and Cersei’s playing the little whore. Just not for Robert. She’s been bedding our cousin, Lancel Lannister for years. I suppose Arryn had figured it out, so he had to go. Her children are all Lancel’s.“

Ned rubbed his face. „Gods damn it!“ he growled. „Why in the Seven Hells had I even come into _this_...“

„This shithole?“ the knight supplied. „Probably because you want your family alive. If so, you will take that book back where it is from.“

Ned sighed. „I shall do just that, tomorrow. But I don’t intend to let this go so easily.“ he muttered under his breath.

„I supposed you won’t.“ shrugged the Kingsguard.

„You’re not too concerned about my little conspiracy.“ he pointed out. Jaime rolled his eyes.

„If it had escaped your attention so far, Lord Stark, then I will tell you now. _I’ve been in it and I’m still in it_, as much as you and I don’t give a rat’s ass about my family. The only one, who’s not as mad as Aerys, in my family, is Tyrion. And the children. Well, Joffrey... is not so fine.“

„Not so fine?“ Ned raised an eyebrow. What was this now?

Jaime shook his head. „Let us say you betrothed your daughter to a little monster. Myrcella and Tommen, on the other hand, are relatively innocent.“

Ned couldn’t help, but glare. „_I _don’t kill children. That’s your father’s pastime.“

Jaime grimaced. „I know that. You’re too honorable for that. But I’ve to warn you, playing this Game honorably, will get you killed. Be smarter, than the rest.“ he stood up. „I’ll try keeping Cersei off your back, as much, as possible. I know her tricks back and forth. But Cersei isn’t the only one, who has an agenda.“ He walked to the secret passage again and pulled away the tapestry.

„Thank you.“ Ned said after a while.

Jaime looked at him with a raised eyebrow. „Don’t thank me, Stark. I’m doing this for Rhaegar and Jaehaerys. Not for you.“

Before Ned could call after him- and demand, from _where in the name of the Old Gods he knew_ Jon’s real name,- he was gone, without a trace.

He groaned and buried his face in his hands. „Goddamn it.“ he growled quietly.


	22. Arthur IV & Jaime VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best- and definitely not how I imagined it at first-, but hopefully the ones after this, will turn out better. I just needed this one out of the way. Now, Ned can move and bring the Targaryens into the Game.

**Arthur IV**

He smirked at Jaehaerys, letting _Dawn’s_ tip touch the ground. „You’re getting better with each day. Give it a few years and you’ll be better than I or your father.“

He smiled- oh so much like his mother- and whirled the Valyrian Steel blade in his grip. „You flatter me, Ser.“

Arthur gave a small snort. „You know I only speak the truth.“

„Jon!“ Arthur glanced upwards, following the voice. „Letter from The Wall!“

He glanced back at the young Targaryen, to see, as he sheathed his sword and hurried towards the door, with a _skip_ in his step. He chuckled at the sight, following at a much slower pace.

Ever since the visit to The Wall, Jaehaerys had been exchanging letters with Maester Aemon. Arthur was glad, that he could at least find some sort of connection to the Targaryens- someone, who knew more than they did. Rhaenys and Daenerys were alive, but still across the Sea. Still, even if they were here, they would know as much about the House, as Jaehaerys. Mere history and brief mentions of Rhaegar and Queen Rhaella from Oswell.

Aemon knew not only the history but knew personal stories as well, which would help Jaehaerys to relate more.

When he finally caught up with the two in Ned’s solar, he found Robb sitting at the desk, auburn head hanging over some paper, while Jaehaerys was leaning against the wall, his dark gaze drinking up the words. Once he was done reading, he looked at Robb.

„Something’s wrong, Robb?“

Robb growled. „You could say, I suppose. Lord Karstark always finds some reason to glare at granduncle Rodrick. Not that he’s any better and this is from him this time.“

Jaehaerys leaned closer, placing Aemon’s letter on the edge of the desk. As he leaned over the papers, Arthur’s breath caught. With each passing day, he looked more and more, like Rhaegar. Often, it was like looking at the ghost of his best friend.

„What is it?“ Jaehaerys asked.

„I’ve just got this from Lord Commander Mormont. Came with yours- a deserter at the Watch. We’ve to catch him.“

Jaehaerys‘ eyes flashed before he sighed. „Catch him we will.“

They walked out, Robb and Jaehaerys side by side, while he followed close behind them. The inhabitants gave them a wide berth path, down to the yard.

With their horses ready, they all mounted and rode out, with a small group of men around them. With it so, he steered his horse closer to Jaehaerys. The Targaryen gave him a look. „Don’t be suspicious.“ he hissed.

Arthur rolled his eyes. „They’d long gotten used to me being around where you are. Nothing unusual.“ The Targaryen sighed and then they continued riding quietly.

Robb didn’t have _Ice_, so his own sword would have to do. He just wondered, why someone would desert the Watch- these days, the people who went there, were mostly criminals, who escaped death by choosing the Black. It wouldn’t make sense to take the Black and then desert- the members knew, that the deserters caught were executed.

Arriving at the spot, didn’t take long. They found the man bound in a small dungeon. He watched, as the surroundings were set up for the execution.

Robb dismounted and gestured for the men to bring the deserter, as he unsheathed his blade. The man looked at the Stark heir and he matched the gaze.

„You deserted the Watch, despite your vows.“ Robb said frostily. The black brother didn’t seem to care for the contempt in the Stark’s tone.

„They’re coming.“ the deserter said and for some reason, his tone made Arthur shiver. „They’re coming with winter and they bring death.“

Robb’s sword was point down on the ground, as he spoke. „ In the name of Robert Barathenon...“

Arthur sighed and tuned him out- Robert was no king. When he was done, the sword went trough the air and blood splattered on the white snow, painting it red. He saw, as Jaehaerys’ eyes flashed with sadness at the loss of life. _‚He is like his father. No matter the reason for death, he doesn’t like it. Even when we discussed the posiblities of his conquest, he tried suggesting the options, that resulted in the least bloodshed.‘_

„Something’s wrong?“ Jaehaerys asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

He shook his head. „No. Just memories.“ He opened his mouth to ask about it and Arthur was ready to answer, but then Robb mounted.

„The man’s gone mad.“ the redhead muttered to them.

Jaehaerys raised an eyebrow. „What did he say after you raised your sword?“

Robb gave him a look. „Weren’t you listening?“ he hissed.

„Excuse me, _brother_,“ he hissed back, in an equally heated tone, „but I tuned you out after you spoke _his_ name.“

Robb, at least, had the decency to flinch. „Sorry. Couldn’t quite say...“

Jaehaerys rolled his eyes. „You couldn’t. So, what did the deserter ramble about?“

„Corpses, cold and death.“ Robb shrugged. „Couldn’t quite make sense of it. Sounded like one of the stories Old Nan used to tell, to scare us.“

Jon hummed. „Good thing my dragons hatched, when they had. I was actually considering the Night’s Watch, before it happened. Good thing I hadn’t chosen it.“

„Indded.“ Robb agreed. „Now, let us go back and plan that conquest of yours.“

Jaeherys glared and Arthur couldn’t help, but smile. Once, their releationship hadn’t been the best. But now, they were near inseperable along with Cregan. _‚Well, at least they don’t include the Ironborn anymore.‘_

* * *

**Jaime VI**

He could hardly believe, that it was happening in the best of times. Robert had insisted going on a hunt- leaving Stark to deal with the Realm, as he often did, nowadays-and now, they were riding back, with an injured Baratheon. Half-dead really, the boar had almost gutted him.

_‘But, then again, what fool drinks wine on a hunt?’ _he thought. But he couldn’t help, but wonder, as he glanced towards the one, who carried Robert’s wineskin. A distant cousin of his, having the typical Lannister-blonde hair. Had Cersei gotten the lad to put something in Robert’s wine?

They were back at the Keep and Robert was immediately moved to his chambers, while Jaime dismounted. Arys Oakheart and Barristan Selmy followed, as Robert was taken inside.

He went to his room and after checking, that no one was around, he opened the secret passage. Hurrying trough the now-familiar corridors, he ended up in the Tower of the Hand. Brushing the tapestry away, he found Stark there. Shookingly enough, both of his daughters were there- the younger looking like a tiny version of Lyanna Stark, if his memories were correct.

The two girls looked at him confused and shooked, but he ignored them, his green eyes seeking Stark’s grey. „Robert’s injured. A boar got him. I don’t think Pycelle would be able to help, even if he wanted to.“

Stark winced. „I told him to be careful.“

Jaime snorted. „He doesn’t know the meaning of that word.“

„Wait... why would Pycelle...?“

„Cersei.“ Jaime answered. „And you’re forgetting whom he _supposedly_ served, before Robert became king.“

Stark wrinkled his nose. „No, I’m not forgetting anything, Ser.“ he sighed. „Might as well get ready, shall I not?“

Jaime nodded. „Probably.“

Eddard Stark gave him a long, calculating look. „Would you be coming with us?“

Jaime wanted to say _yes_. He was supposed to be, where the King was, as a Kingsguard. But even now, there were miles upon miles between them. He sighed. „I’d like to, belive me. But I can’t, it would immediately be questioned. What is another year, compared to these four and ten? Or was it five and ten?“

He took a step back and turned. „I’ll be waiting tough- helping Varys, where I can.“

„I shall tell him so, Ser Jaime.“

As he turned to leave, he heard, as one of Stark’s daugters asked, what it all was about. He didn’t stay, to hear the answer.

* * *

Five days after that particular hunt- and three days after Robert’s death-, Joffrey was named King. He stood to the side, as Joffrey was crowned and quietly wished he’d tumble on the floor dead. But he had no such luck.

Surprisingly, there was even a feast, despite Robert’s recent death- the boar that had killed him was served, as the main course. After the feast,- and in the last hour of his duty, before he would switch with Mandon Moore- Cersei and Joffrey called Stark to the throne room, Joffrey sitting upon the Iron Throne as if he owned the world. The look on his face was even worse.

„Your Graces.“ called Stark, as he entered. He bowed, but the move he made could be called a bow by only the tiniest margin.

„Lord Stark.“ greeted Joffrey.

„Lord Stark. You’ve serves my husband well, as his Hand these few months.“ Cersei said sweetly. Did she think it would fool Stark? If yes, she was being ridiculous.

„But I would have another Hand.“ Joffrey said. „You are dismissed from your position Lord Stark. Have a safe journey North.“

Stark nodded, but his grey eyes flickered to Cersei. „What of the betrothal Robert mentioned?“

Cersei’s eyes flashed, but her tone remained soft. „I understand my late husband’s wishes, to join the two Houses, but times change Lord Stark. The betrothal no longer stands.“

„Be as you wish, Your Grace.“ he said, as he took the gold brooch from his breast, offering it to Cersei. Cersei took it, looking superior, smiling at her victory. The man, who could have ousted her secret, was willingly leaving.

Eddard knelt then, in front of the Iron Throne, glancing up at Joffrey for a moment, before the oath- which he surely did not intend to keep- left his lips. Once it was done, he walked out.

Jaime watched until the doors clicked shut behind him and glanced up at his sister and bastard nephew. The look in his green eyes sent shivers down his spine.

_For a moment, he was back in time more than ten years and Aerys sat the Iron Throne, looking madly ahead, a grin- that would have fit well onto the face of a foreign death god- on his face. „Burn him.“ he said. _

_The messenger, who brought the news of Rhaegar’s fall, was rooted to his spot in fear. Not a minute later, the green flames of wildfire engulfed the poor lad, his screams echoing in the massive throne room, while Aerys laughed, enjoying the sound of screams._

He shivered. _‚I know that look. Gods help me, I know that look.‘_

He could only pray to the Seven, that Rhaegar’s son would be swift in his conquest, lest the Realm bled by Joffrey’s hand, as it had by Aerys‘.


	23. The Spider I & Eddard VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned goes to Pentos, meanwhile, a spider spins his web...

**The Spider **

He waited aboard the ship. The _Sea Snake_ was the fastest ships Lord Velaryon had, to take Lord Stark and his daughters to Pentos.

He was glad for the old letter written by Queen Rhaella- the letter, that declared the child of Lyanna and Rhaegar the true king. After personally visiting Driftmark and showing it to the Loyalists gathered there, he briefly explained the situation. Once he was done, Monford Velaryon immediately offered the ship to take the Starks to Pentos and then back North.

The Lord had chosen the men himself, all of them Loyalists to the bone, with his young son, Monterys there as well, to present his House.

„Will they be coming?“ asked Monterys, glancing at him.

„Patience, My Lord.“ he said quietly. „If he is seen running from the capital, Cersei would know something was up.“

Barely five minutes later, Stark was there with all his men and strangely enough, Jaime Lannister, as well. Monterys stiffened at the sight of the Kingslayer and he could understand why. He was unaware- as were many others,- of the fact, that Jaime Lannister wanted naugh, but a Targaryen worthy of the Throne. And he wanted said Targaryen atop said Throne, as fast, as possible.

„Lord Varys.“ greeted Stark.

Varys smiled and bowed his head. „Lord Stark. Pleasure to see you safely abroad. Lord Stark, meet Monterys Velaryon, Heir of Driftmark.“

Stark nodded. „Greetings, Lord Velaryon. An honour to meet you.“

„Likewise, My Lord.“

Stark glanced at Jaime Lannister with a nod. „Thank you for the help.“

The Kingsguard nodded. „Be swift in your conquest, Stark. Joffrey might as well be as mad, as Aerys. Cersei’s grasping nature doesn’t help much either and if it gets out that all her children are bastards, I can guarantee you, she’ll cling to the crown even more.“

„It’s not my conquest, but I’ll keep your words in mind.“

Varys was surprised when the Kingsguard’s green gaze found him. „Lord Varys, I hope you have an idea, how we can tracelessly dispose of Pycelle. I definitely _won’t_ let a rat, like him get anywhere close to the last of them.“

Varys smiled. „I do have a few ideas, Ser and I shall tell you of them, but later. Let us leave, so the ship can set sail. Time is of the essence.“ he reached into his sleeve and offered Queen Rhaella’s letter to Stark. „This is the letter from the Queen, I’ve taken to Driftmark. Now, I think you would make greater use of it. Keep it safe.“

Jaime nodded to Stark and turned on his heels. Varys nodded to both Lords and started shuffling down himself. „We shall be waiting for your return, My Lords.“

„And return we shall, Lord Varys.“ Eddard Stark said, his usually calm tone, cold and hard, as the lands he ruled. „Return we shall, with an army at our back.“

Varys nodded and watched from the docks with a satisfied smile. _‚And so, the Game begins.‘_

After the ship could no longer be seen he started his treck back to the Red Keep. He had the letters, that Jon Arryn had written, after he figured out, the children were bastards. He’d written the letters, but hadn’t sent them, as he had yet to tell Robert. But he never got the chance to tell Robert, as Cersei had killed him beforehand.

But he’d gotten hold of the letters before any Lannister could have found them. And soon, those letters would be going across the Seven Kingdoms. He would create a little chaos so that the Lannisters had the least possible power. He would also have to play a little game among the people of King’s Landing, to gain quiet support for the Dragons.

Two weeks after the departure of the _Sea Snake_, the first rumours started in a tavern.

_„Rumour has it, that Joffrey and his siblings are bastards, fathered by Lancel Lannister.“_

_„Rumour has it, that the Silver Prince’s heirs live.“_

During the third week after Stark’s departure, the Small Council would hear of the rumours. Jaime Lannister would give him an amused smile if they met in the corridors of the Red Keep, but if the Queen- or the new Hand, Lord Tywin- asked, if he knew anything...

Well, his little birds had heard or seen nothing out of the ordinary.

* * *

** Eddard VII**

On the second day aboard the ship, he decided it was time to tell his men- and his daughters- what was going on. They would reach Pentos soon and he didn’t want uproar, once the Princess‘ were there. He needed his men to trust him.

„What would you like to tell us, My Lord?“ asked Jory. All the northerners, who’d come with him, were looking at him curiously.

„We’re in a complicated situation, so I will try to be brief, but I will need all of you to listen, without interruption.“ he said.

Everyone shared glances before they nodded and muttered, that whatever it was, they trusted him.

„Jon Arryn had died, because he figured out, that Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella were bastards born of adultery between Cersei Lannister and her cousin, Lancel. They killed him for it before he could tell Robert. Lord Varys had found the letters Jon Arryn had penned, to send across the Kingdoms.“

Uproar went trough his men and he waited until they quieted down. However, before he could continue, Vayon Poole spoke up, his daughter held loosely in his arms. „Why would we leave then? Why not tell everyone and let Stannis Baratheon take up his brother's crown?“

Ned hummed. „Because, Vayon, Stannis has no more right to that Crown, than myself.“ that earned more muttering, but even before anyone could speak, he continued. „Four and ten years ago, after the war was over, I found my sister in Dorne on the brink of death. However, what I never told you, was that she died of childbed fever. The boy you know as Jon Snow is the trueborn child of Lyanna and Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. Princess Elia had only one child, Rhaenys. The baby presented as Aegon had been a bastard. The Prince was without heir and the Queen and Elia encouraged him to take Lyanna, as a second wife, after they met. One of the south and one of the north, to show equality. Rhaegar and Lyanna married in front of the Old Gods on the Isle of Faces. Elia hid her in Dorne, once they heard, that Robert called kidnapping. The war broke out after my father and brother rushed to Aerys without reason. If only they’d gone to the Queen instead, she would have explained...“ he shook his head. „Tywin and his forces killed Elia and the baby. But Rhaenys had been smuggled out and hidden in Dorne with Lyanna. I reached the Tower- Sers Arthur, Oswell and Gerold were guarding my sister. They let me past and I met a four-year-old Rhaenys, who called my sister her mother. Lyanna died, but not before she told me the true name of her child and made me promise to protect him. Rhaenys called me her uncle, without thinking and after that, I decided that no matter what, I will keep my promise to Lyanna. Arthur came with me, while his brothers in arms fled to Essos with the Princess. And... you know the rest.“

There was silence.

„Jon is not our brother?“ whispered Arya, hurt. „He’s not a Stark?“

Ned shook his head. „Tell me, Arya, are you a Stark or a Tully?“

She seemed surprised at the question. „Both. Mother’s a Tully.“

He nodded. „Jon has his father’s name, as a Targaryen. But he is also a Stark, no matter what.“

„He’s the Heir of the Iron Throne.“ came the conclusion of Jory. „You want him to be King.“

Ned looked up at him. „Tell me, Jory, which King you’d serve? One, who looks down on us- you’d seen yourself, how Joffrey acts,- or a King, who knows the ways of the North and who would listen?“

Whispers went through his men again before Jory nodded. „I think, I understand. But... excuse me for the question, does the Lady Lyanna’s son have a Targaryen name or had he been named...“

He smiled. „Named after his great-grandfather. _Jaehaerys Targaryen_. Jon is a sort of nickname for it, to honour his northern heritage. And I think it would be appropriate to speak of my sister, as a Princess of the Seven Kingdoms.“

„But why are we going to Pentos?“ Sansa cut in.

He looked at her. „Jaehaerys’ sister and aunt-Rhaenys and Daenerys- are in Pentos. We’re making a short detour, to bring them home. I’m sure your cousin would be delighted to meet the Targaryen side of his family. They had only exchanged one or two brief letters, since last year, when he found out he was a Targaryen.“

„Wait, Ser Arthur Dayne...“ cut in Hallis.

He smiled. „Ser Arthur had come with me, as Jaehaerys’ Kingsguard. Their vows are for life. The ship belongs to House Velaryon. Silently, they declared for my nephew and they know why we’re going, so mentioning this or that, is not a problem. But be sure to keep quiet, once we reach Pentos. We would only stay a few short hours, but I would still ask you to be careful, not to be overheard.“

„Yes, Lord Stark.“ their quick answer was all he needed- they trusted him and they would protect his sister’s child, as much, as he had.

* * *

It had taken them a bit more, than a week to reach Pentos. He bid everyone to stay on the ship- much to Arya’s displeasure-, while he sought out the Magister.

After asking for directions and about half an hour of walking and searching, he fond the manse. The servants led him to the waiting room. A few minutes later, the Magister- a fat man, dressed it colourful silks, with a ring on each of his fingers- appeared.

„Greetings, Lord Stark. I hope you had a safe voyage.“

„Indded, I had. I come with a trade offer and I would wish to take the Princess‘ with me.“ he said, placing a scroll on the table.

The man smiled. „Certainly, My Lord. They shall be here shortly.“ The Magister took the scroll and broke his seal, his eyes scanning the document. „Most generous offer, Lord Stark.“

He nodded. „I’m glad it’s to your satisfaction. Shall King Jaehaerys take the Throne, I’m sure he would reward you as well, for sheltering his family.“

„It would be generous of His Grace.“ he said. Before any more could be said, the door opened and Ned turned. Rhaenys and Daenerys came in side by side, in flowing red and black dresses. He stood up.

Princess Daenerys was the mirror image of Queen Rhaella, while Rhaenys looked more, like her mother, but the dark violet eyes- mirrors of her brother’s- and the silver streaks of hair gave away her heritage.

Rhaenys’ eyes immediately found him and her face broke into a happy smile. „Uncle Ned!“ even before he could react, her arms were around him in a fierce hug. „Uncle. I’m _so glad_ to see you again.“

He smiled and hugged her, just as fiercely. „I’m glad too. You’ve grown and you’re beautiful. They’d be proud of you.“

„Uncle Oberyn had said the same, when we met.“ she whispered.

„And he was right.“ after another moment, they let go and he turned to Daenerys. „Princess Daenerys, a pleasure to meet you. You’re as beautiful, as your mother.“

She smiled shyly. „Thank you, Lord Stark. The pleasure is mine.“

His gaze wandered over to the two knights. „Ser Owell, Ser Jorah. Good to see you again. I hope you are well.“

„We are.“ answered Jorah, as he glanced at the Princess’. „But I would feel even better, if we could sail home.“

„And we shall, Ser.“ he said with a nod. „The ship is waiting.“

„Is Jae here?“ asked Rhaenys, her eyes shining.

He shook his head. „No. He’s in Winterfell with Arthur. But we shall meet them soon. The sooner we leave, the sooner you can see your brother.“

* * *

After what seemed to be an eternity, they were on the ship once more, the crew working diligently, to get them North, as soon, as possible. The Princess’ walked with him and as they passed the crew, many stopped to bow and greet them.

„Where are we going, Lord Stark?“ asked Daenerys.

„I’d like you to meet my daughters and...“ he looked at her. „I think, I would feel better, if you didn’t call me that. You’re a bit younger, than even Jaehaerys.“

„But...“

Rhaenys laughed. „Looks like you’ll be calling him Uncle Ned too. You’re like my little sister.“

„Is that so?“ he asked. It should be surprising, but it wasn’t, really. Not with how much time they spent together and how Rhaenys must have taken care of Daenerys.

„Yes.“ Daenerys nodded with a smile. „It’s like she’s my older sister and not my niece.“

He smiled. „Well, looks like I have one too many nieces and nephews.“ they laughed at that and he could see, that Daenerys was easing up. She’d been timid, but since Rhaenys was so open, she was opening up as well.

They reached the cabin’s door and he opened it for them. As he stepped in, with the knights, his daughters stood up. He smiled at them and he saw, as the four studied each other.

„Princess’, they’re my daughters, Sansa and Arya.“ he looked at his daughters then. „Girls, meet Princess’ Rhaenys and Daenerys.“

Both of his daughters greeted them, as Sansa curtsied and Arya bowed. But, as their eyes met, Arya had to drop a comment, that could be considered rude. „You’re eyes are like Jon’s. The same shade.“

Rhaenys chuckled, her eyes studying Arya. „He is my brother, so of course, we look alike. And you’re like a real northerner- you look exactly how I remember Mother Lyanna and she told me that no self-repecting Lady of the North curtsied. Either bowed or knelt- you’re just like her.“

Ned couldn’t help, but chuckle. „She’s all Lyanna, you’re right about that.“

„She wasn’t even your mother.“ Arya said tone dropping in volume, her eyes narrowing on Rhaenys. Ned sighed tiredly- Arya was still in denial about Jon and now she was being rude to Rhaenys because of it.

„Arya! _Manners!_“ Sansa scolded. „Forgive my sister, Princess, she’s...“

Rhaenys just waved her hand. „It’s quite alright, Lady Sansa.“ she looked at Arya then. „She was the wife of my father. My mother called her a sister, in all but blood.“ she smiled. „Lyanna Stark is my mother in all, but blood, just as much, as Jaehaerys is my brother.“

„His name is _Jon_.“ she growled, before stomping out. Ned rubbed his face.

Princess Daenerys giggled. „She’s a wild one.“

Ned looked at the two Targaryens. „Indeed she is. Like Lyanna- in looks and manners too.“

Rhaenys grinned. „Well, she’s definitely a loveable one, if she’d only let it. I guess, I can understand why my parents’ chose Lya. A warrior, like she’d been. Ser Oswell mentioned something about Lya competeing in a meele and winning against father, too.“

Ned laughed. „Aye. She was the Knight of the Laughing Tree.“

Behind them, Oswell chuckled. „I still remember Arthur’s dumbstuck face, when they came back with Rhaegar, empty-handed. Aerys raged, but Rhaegar didn’t care at all. Later, Arthur told me, that said knight was in fact, a Lady. Lady Lyanna Stark.“

He smiled and put a hand on Rhaenys’ shoulder. „It will take a while, until we make it home. I can tell you of Lya and Jaehaerys too, if you’d like.“

Both Targaryens eyes lit up and Daenerys smiled boardly. „We’d like that, Uncle Ned.“

He smiled, pleased. Soon, he’d be with his sons and wife. Soon they would be home. His family would be together- the Targaryen additions included.

He had not been so happy in years. _‚Rhaegar, I hope you’re _all_ watching. Soon, they’ll be together and they’d be unstoppable.‘_


	24. Catelyn III & Jaehaerys VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The North declares for House Targaryen...

**Catelyn III**

She could barely hold herself upright, once they’d read the letters. Closing her eyes, she ran trough all, that had happened.

Ned had written to them, that Robert was leading the Realm into ruin, but that was it. Reading this letter- penned by Jon Arryn- acompanied by another letter without signature, was another thing. Cersei’s children were bastards. That could very well be the thing, they could use to coax the Lords of the North into supporting Jaehaerys’ claim.

And Robb was doing exactly that. The banners had been called all the Houses answered the call without hesitation. It had taken a few weeks, but everyone had arrived.

Robb was in the great hall, already speaking with the gathered Lords and Ladies, while Arthur helped her nephew into the Valyrian Steel armour of the Conqueror- apperently, the armour had been on The Wall, with Maester Aemon. He looked imposing in the armour, with _Blackfyre_ on his belt and the crown of the Young Dragon resting atop his silver-and-brown locks.

„Done.“ Arthur said. Jaehaerys grinned, looking every inch a dragon, taken human form in the near-black, scaled armour.

„Wonderful to think these still exist and in such a good condition.“ Jaehaerys said.

„Valyrian Steel doesn’t rust.“ Arthur replied, as he stepped away.

Catelyn smiled and clasped the white, fur lined cloak around his neck with a clasp forming the snarling direwolf of Starks.

„You look like a real king.“ she smiled, hugging him quickly, but firmly. „They’d be proud of you.“

He beamed back. „I hope so, aunt. I hope, I won’t mess it up.“

„You’ll do wonderfully, Jaehaerys.“ Arthur said.

He nodded and then they linked arms, walking towards the Great Hall, waiting for Robb’s call. She didn’t know what it would be, but her son had assured them, they would know, once they heard it. From inside, she could hear the many voices shouting about Starks, dragons and southron sluts.

Then, there was a moment of stillness, before the shouting rose again and heard the many voices, as one. „The King in the North, whose name is Stark!“

Then, they were cut off by a sharp howl- Grey Wind, no doubt. The Hall fell quiet and she could faintly hear Robb’s voice. „What if I told you, My Ladies and Lords, if there _was_ a Dragon, to take the Iron Throne.“

Jaehaerys’ grip tightened on her arm and she gave him a calming smile.

„For years, you knew a lie. My father never had a bastard. The child he’d brought home, was my cousin. The trueborn son of my aunt, Lyanna Stark and Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.“

She could feel the nervous energy radiating from her nephew and it made her uneasy too. But, she’d keep a level head, for his sake. Glancing behind her, she saw Arthur, a hand on his blade. He stood queit and unmoving, the true Kingsguard he was.

For a long while, they didn’t hear anything of the conversation going on in the Hall. Then, the voice of Greatjon Umber thundered trough the Keep. She wondered, if maybe even Jaehaerys’ dragons heard it too.

„If so, where is this child now?“

She shared a look with her nephew and then, they stepped into the Great Hall, Jaehaerys’ left hand brushing Ghost’s snow-white fur. „I’m right here, My Lord.“

All people present turned towards them, their gazes trailed on Jaehaerys.

„Y-you? So it’s true?“ asked Ondrew Locke.

„It is true.“ Jaehaerys said with a nod. His eyes swept over the gathered Lords and Ladies- tough only two were present, Lady Mormont and Serena.

„And why should we...?“ started Greatjon.

„I know well, what you want to ask, My Lord. After all you were the one to say, that southrons never care for the norh. But I’ve been raised here among northern traditions and the Old Gods. I am a Dragon, yes, but I’m also a Wolf.“ she saw, as his sharp gaze settled on Greatjon. „I didn’t have a chance to prove myself to you, but I will, if you give me a chance. The question is, would you let me, or you are content with Lions sitting the Throne. _Lions_, who think us savages and would use lies and deceit, to rule over us.“

There was a heartbeat of silence, before he continoued.

„I did not want the throne and I had said as much to the Starks. But so it seems, those who sit it, do not understand, that a monarch should protect his kingdom. They want to rule over us with fear expect us to do, as they say, without questions. They want us to be loyal, to follow them, when they’re threatening people, who we love. They’re threatening the very well-being of the Realm. For all I know, Robert Baratheon drunk the Kingdoms into poverty and the Lannisters’ hold the power over the Crown, as Tywin Lannister feeds them gold. Are you content with a king like that?“

She almost smiled, as each present leaned a little closer._ ’He spins his words like silver, without saying a single lie.’_

„Maybe what you’re saying is true.“ Lord Karstark said. „But the Targayrens also have a history of madness, your grandfather being the most recent.“

„If I ever turn out as mad as him, Lord Karstark, then I would need a knight as true, as Jaime Lannister. He might have borken his wov, but he had the courage to do it and thus save thounsands of men and women from burning to death.“

Some whispered at that, but before anything could be said about the topic, Lady Mormont spoke up.

„He’d helped us before. He did his duties in the service of Lord Stark and don’t tell me, I was the only one, to wish for a boy, as talented and loyal as him. A bastard’s name he had, when his was the entire Seven Kingdoms and he never wanted more, than he was given. He helped us, on Stark’s orders and other times, because he wanted to. I say, I would want a Lord or a King, as him. A King, who listens to his subjects and not aftraid to take up a sword, instead of hiding behind the seven best, as Baratheon had. A King, who would take up sword, quill and shovel, for the well-being of his subjects. He’s been raised true and honourable, just as our Lord is and it had been a while, since I’ve seen a worthy king. If there is one, then it is him.“

„Well said.“

„True.“ Muttering ran trought the hall, yet again.

„I had said, we know no King, but the one, whose name is Stark.“ Lady Mormont spoke again, her gaze turning to the young Targaryen. „I suppse, I will have to correct myslef, for a Stark-blooded Dragon can very well be our knig. A Dragon and a Wolf. Targaryen and Stark.“

She watched fascinated, as the mutterings grew and someone called out. „Long live the Dragons!“

And like the sea, all those present rose up, raising their weapons into the air, their chants echoing in the entire Keep, naming her nephew their king.

„Long live the Dragons!“

„Long live House Targaryen!“

„Long live the Dragonwolf King!“

Grey Wind howled and Robb rose from his seat, joining the chant himself. „Long like the Dragonwolf King!“

* * *

**Jaehaerys VII**

Once the chant died down, they all looked at him for further instructions. He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. _‚Now or never.‘ _

„Before we start planning and moving south, I would like to ask you to join me outside the Keep for a short while.“

They all looked at him questioningly, but then, nods and murmurs were the show of their agreement. He’d better tell them of it, before anything started. He glanced at Arthur, who looked amused. „Are you sure it would be a good idea, so close to the Keep?“

He shook his head. „You’re a worrywart, Arthur. Has anyone ever told you that?“

Arthur smiled sheepishly. „Rhaegar, a few times. But I suppose, like father, like son.“

He laughed. „I’ll take that, as a compliment.“ he turned and was halfway on the corridor, when he remembered something. „Ser.“

„Yes, Your Grace?“

He twiched a bit, but tampered down his urge to answer snarkily. „Do we have news of my uncle?“

Arthur hummed. „Lord Varys had sent me a letter the day after the raven with Jon Arryn’s findings arrived. Lord Stark had set sail for Pentos. Lord Monford Velaryon of Driftmark had provided the ship.“

„Why would Lord Stark sail to Pentos?“

He turned his gaze on those gathered. „Simple, Lord Manderly. My sister Rhaenys and my aunt Daenerys are both alive and currently in Pentos. My uncle will be bringing them home, where they belong, to me and to the Martells.“

The gasps were all the answer, he needed. „Would the Martells not try placing your sister on the Throne, instead?“

He shook his head. „No, Lord Karstark. Both Prince Doran and Oberyn seemed to understand, that the Kingdoms would no let a woman sit the Iron Throne. My family had left me many things, letters among them. Princess Elia adressed me, as a son and that seemed to be convincing enough. We have a working trade agreement and if everything goes smoothly, then Arya shall wed Prince Trystane and I shall wed Rhaenys. This will ensure Dorne’s full support. For we all will be kin and neither of us would wish to be kinslayers, as Robert Baratheon, I assume.“

„Wedding your sister?“ someone hissed.

He glared in the general direction of the voicee. „You shall soon understand, why I wish to keep that one tradition of my family.“

He turned on his heels then and walked out.

* * *

Once he reached the edge of the Wolfswood, he dismounted and let the horse go, with a good slap to the flank. He rode forth, while the others were still waiting for their horses. He reached out trough the connection he had and tugged at it, as he would, with a horse’s reins. _‚M__ā__zigon.‘_ he called, turning his gaze skyward.

His eyes were still upon the sky, when all the guests- and his family- arrived, on horseback. He could feel his children much closer now. Glancing at the sky, he even saw the three dark spots, that were growing with each moment. He turned to the nobility. „My Ladies and Lords, for your safety, please dismount and let your horses go. I wouldn’t want any injurues caused by wild horses.“

The Starks all dismounted without question, sending their horses running towards Winter Town, just as he had. Some of the Lords murmured, that he was playing a game with them, but followed the Starks’ example anyway.

The horses were barely on their way, when his beloved dragons arrived. Some cried out in disbelief and even backed away, once the three landed a few feet behind him. He smiled, for all three were now big enoguh to be ridden and soon would come the time, when he would be in the skies, just like his ancestors.

„Dragons?“ someone whispered. His gaze slipped from his dragons to the group before him.

„You have _dragons_?“ asked Lord Umber, with wide eyes. Actually, save for his family, who’d alredy seen the dragons, everone was wide-eyed and pale-faced.

„Yes, I have dragons. I hatched them myslef, walking into fire, so they could live. Some of you questioned my intention of marrige.“ he said in an icy tone. „You can see, the magic is not yet gone from the world- the direwolves and the dragons are proof of it. We would need that magic strong, if we don’t wish them to go wild.“

He was looking at them, but stretched his left hand towards the dragons. „Rhaeddar.“ he called. The black beauty crawled closer, with Visegon and Rhaelia curling together for heat. The closer his soon-to-be mount was, the tenser the others were, taking a few steps back. Rhaeddar stopped, once he was close enough and put his snout to his hand,huffing out a warm breath smelling of meat and burnt wood.

„Only a Targaryen would risk that.“ said Lord Howland Reed. „The dragons, for them, were like the direwolves were for the Starks. Companions, who fought and lived with them.“

He nodded. „Companions and mounts, yes. And that is what they shall be, once Rhaenys and Daenerys arrive.“

He reached for one of Rhaeddar’s spikes and grabbed it. The dragon growled softly and lowered himself a bit more and with a little jump, he was sitting on his back. There was just a tiny spot, where he could safely sit- he would even be able to use a saddle, but he guessed, that the old saddle designs had been lost. Not that it was too uncomfortable, in his armour.

He looked down at the group again. They all knelt, fear and awe in their eyes. „Long live the King.“

His dragons roared, their voices echoing for miles.


	25. Benjen IV & Rhaenys III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the planning of the movements of the host makes sense, somewhat. I am not good with these kind of things.

**Benjen IV**

Once everyone had gotten over the fact, that his nephew had dragons, the preparations to march started almost immediately. To save time, it had been agreed upon, that all would be marching their troops straight for Moat Cailin, instead of the usual way of the troops gathehring at Winterfell first.

Along with his own men, the Manderlys had been the first to arrive, as they were only a few days’ ride away. Now tough, he watched the long column of men, getting closer and closer. The might of the North gathered for his nephew.

All the colourful banners flapped in the soft, cold wind- but none as high, as the red three-headed dragon on black, right under it the grey wolf of white field for the Starks.

He looked at the sky, the three dragons circling above the growing army. He briefly wondered, if Jaehaerys was mounted on the black one. After that scene in the Wolfswood, he wouldn’t be too surprised.

As the first men came into his immediate wiev, he found Robb riding in the front, Catelyn right next to him. He whirled on his heels and strode trough the corridors to greet them again.

„Are the gates open?“ he asked his Captain.

„Yes, My Lord. The army has clear passage to the Neck. From what I know only a small number of the Reed men would be joining?“

He nodded. „Aye. You and about three hundred will remain here, to protect the North. Lord Reed’s men would make it so, that our enemies would have even harder time passing the swamps. Also, as per the King’s orders a quarter of our fleet will remain patrolling the coasts for safety mesure. The Ironborn had been trying to raid again and we wouldn’t want our homes unprotected.“

„Smart move.“ his captain agreed.

Ben smiled. „Arthur and Ned had practically been feeding him tactics and politics, all his life. He just never noticed.“

He passed the man then, ready to call the Lords into his Great Hall for some planning.

* * *

An hour later, all of them were there, in the hastily prepared war room, gazing at the map of the Seven Kingdoms. Jaehaerys was tracing the lines with his eyes, as if the map held the answers of the world.

„Aunt Catelyn, will the Rivermen be waiting for us?“

Catelyn nodded. „Yes. I’ve sent a letter to Riverrun and my brother’s answer arrived just now. They’re gathering their troops and will be waiting for us at Riverrun.“

Jaehaerys hummed. „We have fifty thounsand men, as a whole, but I would say we take forty thounsand south. How many men can the Riverlands call?“

„Some forty-five thounsand, but even then, we can’t call all of them all. The Lannisters might try something, once they hear of our movement. The Golden Tooth...“

„... is fortified, but we’re not risking it being taken down, otherwise the Lannisters would be flooding trough.“ Jaehaerys finished.

„Exactly, but...“ Catelyn frowned, worry on her face.

Jaehaerys raised an eyebrow. „What is it?“

„House Frey of the Corssing owes loyalty to Riverrun, but my father always said Walder Frey was too close to Tywin, in thinking. If the old weasel serves anyone other than himself, that it’s probably Tywin.“

„I’ll keep that in mind.“ the tone he used, made Benjen shiver. He wondered, what Jaehaerys might do, if the Freys tried stopping them from reaching Riverrun.

* * *

**Rhaenys III**

After a hearty meal, she decied to head for Arya’s cabin. The young version of Mother Lyanna still avoided her and Daenerys, as much, as she could. But that wouldn’t do, she decided. Arya was a Stark and Mother Lyanna had made it clear, when she was still a child, that the Starks would be her family too, once her brother was born. And she’d been right.

She knocked gently on the door, before stepping into the small room. Arya was huddled on the bed- her gray eyes stormy with anger and sadness. Rhaenys’ heart ached at the sight. _,She probably thinks she’s losing a family member, now, that Dany and I are here.’_

The young Stark looked up, before the sadness was overtaken by anger and she glared fiercely, befitting the sigil of her House. „Go away.“ she murmured.

„I’m not here to take him away from you.“ she said quietly. „He’s my brother...“

„Jon is _my_ brother.“ she growled out.

Rhaenys sighed. „He’s a _Targaryen_. He shares my name and my blood.“ Arya opened her mouth, but before she could retort, Rhaenys continoued. „_But_ he’s also a Stark. A Stark and a Targaryen, as I am a Martell and a Targaryen. He is family to both you and me, little wolf. As is Lyanna Stark- she’d been kind to me, you know. I hadn’t known her for long, but she’d taken care of me, as if I was trully her blood. My mother spoke of her as a sister and my father loved them both. I remember little, but I am sure he loved both Jaehaerys and me.“

„He’s a Stark.“ she growled.

Rhaenys hummed in agreement. „A Stark and a Targaryen in blood. A Martell in spirit, as was Mother Lyanna.“

Arya just remained curled up on the bed. Rhaenys sighed.

„Neither me, nor Daenerys are your enemies, Litte Wolf.“ she said softly. „Jaehaerys- Jon is my little brother. Any sibling of his, is also mine.“

Arya still didn’t answer. She sighed queitly and turned to leave. She’d let the young northerner work it out on her own.

„When the white winds blow and winter comes, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.“ she told her, opening the door. It wasn’t even completely open, when Arya spoke.

„How do you know that?“

She turned, looking at him. „I told you, little wolf. Lyanna Stark was my mother in all, but blood. Any family of hers, is my own. Starks, Martells and Targaryens are all strong alone. Together, we could be even stronger, to take care of our family. All members of those Great Houses are my family, as they are Daenerys’ family. Jaehaerys’- _Jon’s_ family.“

There was a moment of silence. The gray eyes were swirling with emotions and Rhaenys decided to wait. Wait and see, how she might react.

„But... he’s my brother.“ she whispered.

Rhaenys nodded. „So is mine. It doesn’t matter, which name we have. Blood doesn’t make family- it makes the Houses, into what they are.“

„Then... what makes a family?“ she asked. Rhaenys found it cute, that she was so confused- but she made a mental note never to call Arya cute. She probably would’t like it.

„Care. Love.“ she answered simply. „I care for him and love him, just as you do. That’s what makes a family. His name is Jaehaerys Targaryen, but that will not change, how he feels about you, I’m sure.“

„You think so? That he’d still say I’m his sister?“ Arya stood from the bed, walking closer. Rhaenys felt a tiny spark of vicotry. She was willingly coming to her.

Rhaenys smiled and nodded. „Probably. Uncle Ned keeps saying you’re the one he loved the most, ever since you were born. Love doesn’t go away, little wolf.“

„Jon always calls me that.“ she muttered. Rhaenys winced a little, making a mental note, not to use the nickname again.

„Arya...“

„He’s really your brother?“ she asked again, now looking straight at her, stopping her slow walk.

Rhaenys laughed. „You were the one, who said how much my eyes look like his.“

Something flashed in the dark grey eyes, that Rhaenys couldn’t quite name. This young girl was hard to read. „Does... that mean you’re my sister too?“

A huge smiled formed on Rhaenys’ lips. „If you want me to be your sister, then yes.“ she stepped closer to Arya and carefully brought her into a hug. A moment later, surprisingly strong grip was the answer. „We’re one big family. Alright?“

The young northerner nodded into her dress, muttering something. Rhaenys bent down and hugged her closer. „What was that? I couldn’t hear.“

„Don’t tell him, okay?“

Rhaenys blinked in confusion. „Tell who?“ _’And what I shouldn’t tell?’_

„Jon.“ murmured Arya.

The Targaryen tilted her head to the side, studying the younger girl. „What I shouldn’t tell Jaehaerys?“

„That I can’t say it.“

_’Alright, this is getting confusing and I feel like running in circles. Uncle Ned! Where are you, when I need you?!’ _she thought desperately. But she wouldn’t let her panic show. She took a deep breath and gently pulled Arya away, to look into her grey eyes.

„What is that I can’t tell him? What can’t you say?“

Arya’s expression was somewhere between fear and irritation. „You can’t tell him I can’t say his name. I mean, his real name. Jon’s.“

„Why can’t you say it?“ she blinked.

Arya stomped her foot, glaring at her. „I just keep messing up the letters, _okay?!_ It’s too long and he’s going to be angry too...“

Rhaenys couldn’t help the laughter, that bubbled up from her chest. Arya’s biggest problem was, that she suddenly couldn’t pronouce her favourite brother’s _’new’_ name and she was afraid what Jaehaerys might say.

She scooped the girl into her arms, as she’d done with Dany, when she was old enough and Dany was small enough yet. „Come on, little wolf. We’ll find Dany and Uncle Ned and I’ll teach you some Valyrian. By the time we meet him, you’ll be better, than him. And if he ever says anything about names and your terrible pronouciation, I’ll chase him for you and when we’re done chasing Jaehaerys, we can learn together, how to fight.“

The grey eyes lit up excitedly- the sight reminded her of a younger Dany, who’d been excited at the idea of being like Queen Visenya. „You’d teach me how to fight?“

She chuckled, as she carried Arya trough the corridors. „I could, but I know better. We’ll ask the Kingsguard- Oswell, or Arthur, maybe- to teach us both.“

Arya’s grin could have lit up the darkest of rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, soon, they will reach the Riverlands and meet at Riverrun. But in the meantime... idea what to do with the Freys? I really don’t like them, for what they did to the Starks... but I don’t want to be too harsh either.


	26. Jaehaerys VIII & Daenerys I

**Jaehaerys VIII**

When they reached the Twins, the march stopped. His dragons were hidden and it was just the host behind their back. Robb and Uncle Benjen rode on his two sides, while Cregan and Ser Arthur were behind them.

The road ahead was closed- it was obvious, that it won’t be an easy thing to convince Late Walder Frey, to comply with his demand.

_’Fire and Blood.’_ he told himself. Now, that his dragons were here- and grown, ready for battle- those words meant more, than ever before in the last hunder or so years, in the history of his House.

He was not surprised, when a rider stopped a few feet away. „My name is Ser Stevon Frey. What would northmen like you, be doing here?“

„You stand in the presence of King Jaehaerys Targaryen, Third of His Name, Rightful King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. The Unburnt, the Father of Dragons and the Dragonwolf. Son of Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Princess Lyanna Targaryen of House Stark.“

Jaehaerays’ head hurt. Why in the seven hells did Cregan have to list _all_ of that adding even those names, that the Lords of the North had given him, after seeing his dragons? (And how in the name of the Old Gods did he manage to say all that in _one_ breath?)

Something flashed trough Stevon’s face. „Your Grace. An honour.“ he bowed his head.

„Ser.“ he greeted neutrally. „We’d wish to cross the Twins. May I have a word with the Lord Frey?“

„Of course, follow me, please.“

He shared a look with those around him and they went, with Benjen and Cregan staying behind with the army. Once they were in the yard, they dismounted and Ser Stevon led them trough the Keep, to meet Walder Frey.

Once they stepped into the Hall, they found an old man- all bones and graying hair- sitting in his chair, which, if he wanted to be honest, was styled like a throne. The man was one foot in the grave, but it didn’t seem he’d be putting the other in it anytime soon. _’Let’s see how amiabe is he. I might have to help him into the grave, if he hinders us too much...’_

„Father this...“ Ser Stevon started, only to be cut off by the cackling of the old weasel.

„What little upstart thinks he can play king?“

Stevon hissed a bit and Jaehaerys’ eyes narrowed. „I am no upstart, My Lord. The Lannisters sit the Throne, that is mine and my family’s brithright. We would be crossing the bridge...“

„You think, I would let you cross?“ Walder Frey asked. „If I did that, Lord Tywin would not be happy.“

„Tywin Lannister is no overlord of yours.“ he said coolly, trying and failing to keep his temper under control. „Lords Hoster and Edmure called the banners and you’ve refused the call of your liege lord. That is considered a crime.“

„The stupid fish knows nothing. I fear no fish. Lions on the other hand... they have claws and gold. I will not rise for someone, like Tully.“

„Then your sentence is death.“ he growled out, looking at Stevon. „Ser Stevon, what do you say? Will you let us cross and will you answer the call of your liege?“

Stevon looked taken aback. „I can make no such decision...“ he said, glancing at his glaring father, „but if I could, I would.“

„That decision is not yours.“ Walder Frey spat, before looking at Jaehaerys. „If you want to cross, you pay the price of it, wolf. Marry one of my granddaughters.“

His eyes narrowed. „A Frey would sit the Iron Throne over my dead body. You are a grasping old traitor. You’ve refused the call of your liege and now you think you can play with me. Would you want me to make an example out of you, as the Conqueror had done with Harren the Black?“

Something flashed in the old weasel’s eyes. „You dare...“

„Your Grace, please. There are many young here. Spare their life and don’t punish them for my father’s folly.“ Setvon spoke, ignoring the glare his father was sending him. „Let us find another solution. A marrige, perhaps? Your cousin...“

„Robb and Cregan are bethrothed. I can make no promises about cousins, who are not even here, My Lord.“ he said. (Alright, that was a lie. Cregan wasn’t bethroted, tough Robb and Alys were. But he did mean, that he wouldn’t put Sansa and Arya into such situations, plus Arya was also bethroted and Sansa would have a much better place, somewhere else.)

He turned to his aunt. „Aunt Catelyn?“

She studied the Freys, before nodding. „_May_ be an option, for my brother. Edmure is not yet married.“

He nodded, looking at Stevon. „You heard the Lady Stark. Further discussions of possible marrige, you will have to bring up to Lord Edmure Tully.“ then he turned to the Lord. „As for you... I will not have people, like you poisoning my kingdom. You are hereby stripped of your title, as Lord of the Crossing, Walder Frey and are to be executed for treason. Your eldest, Ser Stevon may take the title of Lord, if he is to swear fealty to me.“

Walder Frey’s eyes went wide, before he stood from his chair. „You upstart little...!“

„Guards, you’ve heard the King!“ Stevon Frey thundered. „Grab him and take him out of here. Treason is treason.“

The guards grabbed him, as the old weasel kept shouting, that Tywin Lannisert would make them pay and wish they never raised their hands against House Frey. Once the guards draged the old weasel away from his seat, he turned to Ser Stevon, who immediately unseathed his sword and knelt, to swear his oath.

Once it was done, he waved the new Lord to stand. He was surprised to see... relief on his face. „Why the relief, My Lord?“

Stevon’s gaze flickered to him. „I’ve waited for years and he still clings to life. And he hadn’t been a good Lord, tough I could do little, behind his back. You’ve done us all a favour, Your Grace. There won’t be a soul to mourn him.“

He nodded and gestured for his company to follow.

Once in the yard, he found the former Lord bound to a post, as they waited for his sentence. He glared at the man for a second, before speaking. „Lord Walder of House Frey. You have been found guilty of treason for refusing the call of your liege lord and the call of your rightful King and for aiding Tywin Lannister. For such crimes, the sentence is death.“

Silence rung around them, once his voice died down. _’Rhaeddar, m__ā__zigon!’_

A minute later, his mount swooped down from the skies, scaring those on the courtyard, as Rhaelia and Visegon also appeared, circling the castle. As his monut landed on one of the twin towers, the structure groaned under the massive weight.

He looked into the dragon’s eyes, then pointedly at Walder Frey. _„Dracarys!“_

Rhaeddard roared, before a jet of flame left his mouth. The old Frey didn’t even have time to scream. A minute later the fire ceased, leaving only a massive black spot, the stone cracked and charred by flames.

He then turned to his Aunt. „My Lady, take a small retinue and ride to meet your brother. He should be informed of his possible marrige and the need of chosing his bride, of he agrees.“

Catelyn nodded. „I shall go.“

* * *

Three days later, the wedding of Lord Edmure and Lady Roselyn was held at the Twins. What eased his heart, that Lord Edmure had admitted, that Lady Roselyn was comely and kind, so he can imagine living with her. Roselyn had much similar opinion.

He even found himself a squire in Olywar Frey, whom Ser Stevon allowed to join their host, while providing an extra five-thounsand men, leaving the rest to guard the Crossing, for safety mesures. There was no enemy behind their back, but he would never leave their rear open, because they could get sneaked upon.

Once the army passed trough the Twins, Jaehaerys couldn’t help, but smile. „Riverrun’s ahead. One step closer to the goal.“

„Aye cousin, that we are.“ agreed Robb with a grin.

He kicked his horse ahead, his eyes darting to his playing dragons. _’I wonder where Uncle Ned is? I want to see my sisters and aunt.’_

* * *

**Daenerys I**

Riverrun was beautiful and big, even tough Uncle Ned had said, that Harrenhall was bigger, even burnt and half-melted. The air was humid and pleasantly cool, compared to Essos, the slight wind making the Tully banners of blue-and-red dance.

She was tired and hungry, unused to riding, even tough they hadn’t ridden for too long.

„Come on.“ Uncle Ned called. „Lord Hoster will provide us refreshment and as I’ve heard, the Targaryen-Stark host should be here in a week or even less. They only stopped for the wedding of my good-brother.“

„Wait... Unce Edmure is getting married?“ Sansa asked surprised, her blue eyes wide.

„If what we heard is true, then yes. But I really shouldn’t be surprised. Walder Frey is and old weasel, a dog of Tywin, who wanted the Riverlands for ages.“

Daenerys frowned, sharing a look with Rhae. This didn’t sound so good. She hoped Jaehaerys will be alright.

Once they arrived into the castle, a graying man greeted them. He had deep blue eyes and weathered face. „Eddard.“

Uncle Ned looked surprised, before shaking hands with the man. „Ser. I didn’t think I’d find you here.“

The knight frowned a little. „My brother is not in the best of health. I thought to visit, in these troubling times. I believe Lysa will be safe in the Eyrie on her own, for a short while.“

„I hope he recovers. Catelyn would be devastated, if something happened to him.“

The knight nodded, his blue eyes flickering to her and Rhaenys. For a second, he seemed confsed, before recognition flashed trough his eyes. „Princess’ an honour to meet you.“

„Likewise, Ser.“ she answered, almost at once with Rhaenys.

„Brynden, are there any news...?“

The knight would have heard „The North decared for House Targaryen almost immediately, after the letters had arrived. A fww days after, Cat sent a letter, so my brother decided, we should aid family. Stannis has been sniffing around about who might have sent the letters, concering the births of Cersei’s children. There’s chaos and using that, Balon Greyjoy called for independence, tough no one had done anything yet, as they’re all preoccupied with the Lanniserts. I don’t think it had reached anyone yet, other than us, that there’s a Targaryen climant.“

She saw, as the grey eyes narrowed. „He’s not simply a _climant_, Brynden.“

„He’s my brother.“ Rhaenys said, her tone like steel.

Ser Brynden’s eyes flickered over to Rhaenys and he raised an eyebrow. „Even if his mother is not your mother?“

Rhaenys glared. „Lyanna Stark was my mother in all, but blood. My mother called her a sister and we have the same father. He is my brother and thus, the Rightful King.“

Ser Brynden seemed taken aback. „My apologies, Princess. I didn’t mean to offend.“ his blue eyes swept over all of them. „Come. You will have a chance to rest, before the host arrives.“

Daenerys frowned a little. Why did people think, that Rhae and Jaehaerys didn’t think each other siblings for not sharing a mother? She saw no problem with it. Her brtoher hadn’t been the only one, to take a second wife.

_’Southrons and their Seven, with all those rules.’_ she thought, shaking her head.

She remembered what Uncle Ned had said about the Faith of the Seven and truth be told,- while she had no northern ancestry- she felt herself closer to the Old Gods or Dorne’s Mother Rhoyne.

But, no matter what they thought, Daenerys decided, that they’d be happy together. Rhaenys had said, they could be and she’d believe her older sister (for Rhaenys could only be her sister).

Soon, Jaehaerys would be here and then, no one could take them away from each other again. Looking at Rhaenys, she saw the same conviction in her dark eyes.


	27. Catelyn IV & Rhaenys IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as long as I would have liked, nor is it as good...  
But after deleting parts of it and then rewriting them, well, this was the best version.
> 
> There is some High Valyrian here, for which I used Lingojam Valyrian translator.

**Catelyn IV**

She was at home. Even the air seemed to be different here. Or was it her homesickness? Not that it mattered much. They had arrived and she was home, even if only for a while.

The Twins were not _too_ far from Riverrun, yet the ride seemed to take forever, even though they started their journey the next morning after Edmure’s wedding. It seemed, her family was waiting for them, as the Targaryen banner was hung above the main gate. The bridge was down and someone was riding out to meet them.

She needed a few minutes, to recognise her uncle. _’Why is Uncle Brynden here? I thought he was with Lysa?’_

Jaehaerys looked at her questioningly and she smiled. „My uncle, Ser Brynden Tully.“

He hummed. „The Blackfish? What a surprise.“ he said, turning his gaze back to her uncle. Her uncle halted his steed and bowed his head.

„King Jaehaerys, we have been waiting for you. I can tell you, that Lord Eddard had arrived with the rest of your family a few days ago.“

He smiled. „Are they well?“

„That they are, indeed. They had been rather impatient, after I told Lord Stark, that your host had stopped at the Twins. The men can set camp around here.“

His smile brightened and nodded. „Then, lead the way, good Ser. It’s not polite to make ladies wait.“

Her uncle chuckled and steered his horse towards the gate. Jaehaerys grinned at her and kicked his horse into a trot. Smiling at his good mood, she followed.

A few minutes later, they were dismounted and she was the last one on her horse. Jaehaerys stepped next to her horse and offered a hand to help her dismount, much to her surprise. She blinked, but accepted the offered hand and slipped from the saddle softly.

„Thank you, Your Grace.“

He rolled his eyes at her. „None of that, aunt. You’re family and the woman who’d helped raise me.“

He then turned to her uncle, who nodded and led them inside. As they walked through the familiar corridors, her childhood memories came back vividly and she smiled. After a few minutes, they reached the Great Hall.

She saw Ned sitting by the table with their daughters, obviously discussing something. She also saw two strangers, whom she recognised, despite having never seen them before. One had dark violet eyes, like Jaehaerys and curling, dark hair and golden skin. The second has pale skin and lavender eyes with hair as silver, like moonlight.

She heard as Jaehaerys took a deep breath.

„Rhae. Dany.“ his voice was only a whisper, yet the two Targaryen Princesses both looked up, straight at her nephew.

* * *

**Rhaenys IV**

She kept wondering what it would be to see her brother. She thought, that seeing him in her dreams, sometimes, would prepare her for their meeting.

But it had not.

„Rhae. Dany.“ his voice was a whisper, but it reminded her of her father. Even if his accent was more like Uncle Ned’s.

He wore smoky black armor, made of scales with the Targaryen sigil emblazoned into the breastplate. The white cape, that fell down his back was secured with twin direwolves, meant to symbolise House Stark.

He was tall and his hair was curling silver, just as she remembered their father’s, but there were two streaks of dark as well, in the front. His eyes were the same shade of dark violet, as her own with a round face and high cheekbones.

He was breathtakingly beautiful.

She rose from her seat and smiled. She slid past Sansa and smiled, not caring for the small tears forming in her eyes. She knew she was not supposed to run, but who cared? This was her brother and he was finally _here_. On the same continent, in the same castle, in the very same room, where she and Dany where.

She could still recall the fuzzy memories of the Tower, where she saw him for the first time, barely born. Now, after four and ten years, he was here, as a man grown.

She run and all but jumped into his embrace, Dany close behind. His strong arms wrapped around them and she could barely catch the affectionate words of Valyrian he muttered. _„Jorrāelagon mandia. Kesan daor henujagon ao mirre arlī.“_ (Dear sister. I will not leave you ever again.)

_„Iksan sīr glad naejot ūndegon ao.“_ (I am so glad to see you.) she said, still holding him close.

They finally let go of each other and he gave them a foxy grin. _„Eman iā dorolvie gifts syt ao. Kepa geptot ziry syt īlva.“ _(I have a few gifts for you. Father left it for us.)

Daenerys blinked in surprise, obviously not expecting gifts. Not that _she_ expected any. _„Skoros ēdas ziry geptot īlva?“_ (What had he left us?)

Behind them, she heard an annoyed huff. „Could you please speak the Common Tongue?“ Arya demanded, breaking their little moment.

„Arya! Let them have a moment.“ Uncle Ned admonished her.

Jae laughed and his eyes sought out the three Starks, who were seated. She stepped aside, to let him move. „I missed you, little sister.“ he said, opening his arms.

She watched, as Arya’s grey eyes grew wide, before she bolted from her spot, nearly knocking her chair over, in her hurry to reach Jae. He hugged her for a long moment, before letting her go. By that time, Sansa and Uncle Ned were both closer. He hugged Sansa too, before grinning at Uncle Ned.

„Glad you’re safe. I was worried I might have to fly and rescue you myself.“

Uncle Ned shook his head. „That would have been quite reckless. But... knowing Lyanna, I wouldn’t have been surprised.“ he said with a small smile.

Jae laughed. Rhaenys raised an eyebrow at her brother. „Did you just say fly, _valonqar_?“

His dark eyes were glinting happily. „That I did, _mandia_. Come, I want to show you something.“

„I hope they’re not going to ruin my home.“ a red-haired woman said, smiling kindly at her brother.

Jae grinned at her. „No, I’ll tell them to be careful.“ then, her brother stopped, seeming to catch himself. He turned towards them. „Rhae, Dany, they’re my family.“ he said, gesturing at the group. „Aunt Catelyn.“ he said, smiling at the red-haired woman, who looked like an older version of Sansa. „Her eldest son, Robb.“ Robb, just like his mother and Sansa, had blue eyes and red hair. „And there’s Uncle Benjen and his eldest, Cregan.“

As she turned to look at the other males, she immediately noticed the similarities. Lord Benjen looked strikingly like Uncle Ned, but with soft blue eyes. Cregan looked like a younger version of his father, with... much to her shook Targaryen lilac eyes, almost like Dany’s.

Jae’s eyes glinted, seeming to notice she wanted to ask, how was that possible. „Sadly, Aunt Serena isn’t here, you’ll meet her later. She’s half Stark, half Belaerys. They were another of the Fourty Dragonlord families.“

Her eyes went wide before she smiled. „Oh, that explains it. Excuse my stare, but it was so similar...“

Cregan smiled at her. „It’s nothing, Princess. There were times, even at home, when people asked if Jaehaerys and I were siblings since mother’s hair is silver, like his and my eyes were similar to his.“

„You know you’re all like siblings.“ Jae said with a grin.

Cregan nodded. „So you keep saying. But if we were, I’d be a prince.“ he grinned. She laughed a little- it was obviously a good-natured jest.

Jae grinned, as he offered his arms to her and Dany. „Careful what you wish for, Cregan. It might come true. A title like that comes with responsibility.“

She saw as Cregan opened his mouth to answer, but Jae turned and led them out, trough the corridors. As they reached the yard, she heard something akin to thunder. She looked up, but there was nothing- the sky was clear blue.

„Have you ever dreamed of being like our ancestors?“ he asked suddenly, looking at them. „Warriors, atop dragons?“

Dany laughed a little. „I certainly did. But the dragons, as sad as it is, are gone.“

„What if I told you, dear Daenerys, that I’ve brought them back?“

Rhaenys wanted to say it was not possible. But then three massive shadows swooped down and landed on the walls and towers. The people around them screamed and cried out. She just stood there, wide-eyed not quite believing her own eyes.

There were three massive dragons clinging to the beautiful structure of the keep. One was black and red, the second was silver and indigo and the third one was gold and orange.

„How?“ she asked, tearing her gaze away from the dragons, to look at her brother.

He smiled. „What are our House words, sister?“

_„Fire and Blood_.“ she said.

He hummed in agreement. „They are not _just_ words. Nor they are merely a warning.“ he said looking back at the dragons.

„Do... they have names?“ asked Daenerys.

„Rhaeddar, Rhaelia and Visegon.“ he said fondly, nodding at each dragon.

„Since when do you have dragons?“ Arya demanded. „And why didn’t you tell me?“

Jaehaerys looked down at the little wild wolf with glimmering eyes. „Do you remember, when I told you I wanted to show you a secret?“

Arya’s brows furrowed in thought before she nodded. „Yes. Before you went to the Wall, with uncle and Ser Arthur.“

„Indeed. I wanted to show you my dragons. But then... the Lannisters came, so I had to leave.“

Arya’s eyes narrowed. „Why did you leave?“

Jae sighed. „If you hadn’t noticed, Little Wolf... I look almost like father. And the man, who killed my father- saw him eye to eye- wandered Winterfell, as if he owned the place. Neither Arthur nor Uncle Ned wanted to risk him recognising me.“

„Oh.“

„Besides, my great-great-uncle, Aemon Targaryen is the maester at Castle Black. I wanted to meet him. He’s old and I think he was happy to know, that not _all_ of his family lived in exile.“

Her eyes widened. „We still have relatives?“

Jae smiled at him sadly. „Just him and that’s because Baratheon couldn’t reach him, due to his Night’s Watch vows. Maybe one day we can fly there and you can meet him. I’ve been exchanging letters with him for a while, but since we moved from Winterfell, it was harder.“

She nodded. „Well, I hope we can meet him, one day.“

The dragons huffed and moved a little and she swore she heard the walls creak under the weight. She looked back at the dragons, just as the gold one- Rhaelia- crawled closer and looked at her. Everyone else took a few steps back, but she felt no fear.

Only kinship. She reached out, placing her hand on the dragon’s snout and she huffed a warm breath at her. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the silver one also closer than before and Dany stroking its snout.

Jae chuckled. „Well, it looks like they chose their riders as well.“

She beamed, leaning against the dragon’s snout. They’d be like the Conquerors. Rhaelia growled, the sound reverberating through her bones. It seemed, even the dragon agreed with her.

They had dragons and _they were together_.

Nothing could stop them now, to take what rightfully belonged to them.


	28. Daenerys II

They were given the biggest guest room of Riverrun. It was beautiful, with a mesmerizing view of the Trident. The room was dominated by a massive four-poster bed, the red silks surrounding the bed, throwing colourful streaks of light on the white sheets.

She would have thought, that they would sleep separately, but Jaehaerys had been adamant, that the three of them should have the same room.

„Soon, you’ll be my Queens, both of you.“ he’d said, when she asked, why did he want the three of them in the same room. „They better get used to it sooner, rather than later.“

Now, they were ready for the feast.

The dresses they’d been given were light and beautiful. Hers was mostly red with some black, while Rhae’s was black, with red and orange ornaments. Jae had shown them her mother’s jewelry and both of them had two small crowns. Jae himself was wearing the crown of Daeron I, looking every inch the King he was born to be.

„So... do you two agree with my plan?“ Jae asked, looking at them both.

Rhae rolled her eyes. „For the thousandth time, Jaehaerys, _yes_.“ she said. „They deserve it. We owe it to them for keeping us safe.“

„Plus,“ Dany injected seriously, „the documents are there. It’s due them for a hundred years. A dragon never forgets.“

Jae smiled. „Ad the North remembers.“ he picked up the two scrolls from the desk and pocketed them both.

He offered his arms and Dany linked her arm with his on his left, while Rhae took his right. They walked into the Great Hall with smiles on their faces. The gathered Lords quieted down and all bowed, waiting for them to sit.

Jae waved for them to sit, as she and Rhae sat on his two sides. Jae himself remained standing. All eyes were on him. His eyes swept over the Hall, before stopping on Lord Stark.

„My Ladies and Lords. I thank you for coming and I thank you, for your fealty. I could say, today we celebrate the homecoming of my sister and aunt, but that is not the case.“

Jae stopped for the effect and she almost smiled. She could see the confusion on all the faces.

„Today, we’re here to celebrate the ones, who kept the three of us safe, endangering their own lives.“ he raised his cup. „Today, we celebrate House Stark.“

The northern Lords broke into loud cheers, while the Riverlanders joined a tiny bit less enthusiastically. Her eyes stopped on the Stark brothers. Both Lords Eddard and Benjen had shooked expression on their faces.

„And today is the day, we reward House Stark for keeping us safe.“

Dany’s mouth almost curved into a smile, as she saw the dreadful curiosity settle on Lord Eddard’s face. Glancing to the side, she saw Rhae’s eyes grimmer with laughter.

„During the Dance of Dragons, House Stark had been promised something,“ Jae continued, forcing her to focus. „that had not been fulfilled. Today, on the decree of my late grandmother, Queen Rhaella Targaryen, I hereby call the _Pact of Ice and Fire_ to be valid. As stated in the Pact, made between Queen Rhaenyra and Lord Cregan Stark, a Stark and Targaryen are to be married. The marriages happened if a century later. The Pact is active, as per the marriages of Lord Edwyle Stark and Princess Vaella Targaryen as well as Lady Lyanna Stark and Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.“

There was a minute of quiet.

„Therefore, from this day onwards, the North shall be known as a Principality. From this day, Lord Eddard Stark shall be known as Prince Eddard Stark, Prince of Winterfell and Warden of the North. His lady wife shall be Princess Catelyn. Their children shall be Prince Robb, Princess’ Sansa, and Arya as well as Princes Brandon and Rickon.“

There was quiet, before all of those gathered broke into loud cheers, chanting Stark and Targaryen in the same breath. It brought a smile to her face. Jae raised his hand and much to her shook, the Hall fell quiet.

„And with this, I would also as Prince Eddard, to be my Hand for the duration of our Conquest or until he chooses to retire, as I know that he would most likely like to return to Winterfell, as soon, as possible.“

Lord- no, _Prince_ Eddard had such a flabbergasted look on his face, that Dany needed all her self-control not to start giggling. _’You’re here as a Queen now. You can’t just giggle at anyone.’_ she scolded herself.

The Prince in the North seemed to gather himself and smoothed his expression into a pleasant smile. „It would be an honor, Your Grace.“

Jae’s face brightened into a charming smile and his gaze swept the room once more. „Then, let the feast begin!“

* * *

Hours later, they were tangled in the sheets of their bed, all of them in simple clothes for comfort, sharing stories. Their little bonding time, as Rhae had fondly called it, was disturbed by a knock. They shared a look and she gave a half-hearted sigh.

„Duty calls.“ she murmured.

„One with a crown shall not find rest, until death.“ Jae said.

Dany slipped from under the covers and padded to the door. She opened it slightly, peering out.

„Queen Daenerys.“ greeted Prince Eddard. „May I have a word with my nephew?“

She glanced into the room. Both Rhae and Jae had their clothes straightened out and Rhae managed to look regal even with a bird’s nest for hair. She envied her for that.

Rhae and Jae both nodded and she stepped back, opening the door for the Starks- for Prince Eddard wasn’t the only one, who’d come. The entire family came in and she settled on the bed, next to Rhae. Prince Robb and Princess Sansa went wide-eyed noticing how disheveled they were.

Jae, leaning against the window frame, looked careless, playing with the hem of his sleeve.

„I see we disturbed something.“ Prince Eddard deadpanned, his grey eyes kept on Jae’s face.

„Not exactly, uncle.“ he said, grinning. „Is there a reason for coming?“

„Well... yes.“ he said.

„And that would be, uncle?“ Rhae asked.

The Stark lord sighed. „It wasn’t necessary, you know.“

Ah, so _that_ was it.

„Quite the opposite, My Prince.“ she said with a smile. She saw, as the grey eyes flashed and her smile widened even more. „The document was there and my mother decreed it so before she died. When you declared Jaehaerys the King, it meant that any document forged around the time of his birth and before the crowning of the Usurper, Rober Baratheon, is valid.“

„Therefore,“ Rhaenys continued smoothly, smiling deviously, „so is her decree. Thus, the North is a Principality, the kingdom, while not independent from the Iron Throne, has the similar priilages to Dorne, as my brother had said.“

„I am not going to change your mind on that, am I?“

Jae stepped away from the window and sat next to Rhae. „Consider it our way of saying thank you.“

Prince Eddard had an unimpressed look on his face. „You’re as stubborn as your mother, Jaehaerys.“

Jae grinned devilishly. „I’ll take that, as a compliment.“

The Prince sighed, raising his gaze to the skies. „The Old Gods have mercy.“ his family giggled and Dany herself had to clamp a hand on her mouth. „Well, seeing I won’t be changing your mind, we might as well leave you, with your... sisters.“

As the Starks left, Prince Robb glanced back and winked at Jae. „Have fun, Jon.“

Dany’s eyes widened, but before she could say anything, Jae sent a pillow sailing through the air and the redhead yelped in surprise, as it hit him in the head. As soon as he deemed it safe, Robb ducked out of the room, muttering.

Once the door clicked shut, Jae threw himself on the bed, pulling both her and Rhae down. She yelped in surprise and was about to say something until her gaze met his.

She smiled. She was at home. Her home was where Jae and Rhae were.


	29. The Spider II & Jaime VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not entirely satisfied with this, but I had to be done with it. The next few chapters will be dealing with the Tyrells...

**The Spider II**

He felt edgy, like a child, when he made his way to the council meeting. Now, that Robert was dead, things seemed to take an interesting turn, prompting the Starks to make a move. His little birds had reported, that Stark was safe in Riverrun, with the Targaryens now together, planning the grand conquest, fighting in the Riverlands and close to the Golden Tooth.

As he sat down, he could not help, but note the changes. After Robert had died, Renly had not come back from Storm’s End. Now, with the rumors flying around about the children everything seemed to descend into chaos.

Stannis and Renly both declared themselves Kings, as Robert had left no trueborn heir. The Lannister woman was clutching the Throne with all her might, but for how long? The rumors of Dragons being alive and coming to claim the Throne, only made her more agitated. That was good, Varys supposed. An agitated mind was more prone to mistakes.

He absently wondered what to do about Stannis and Renly, but for now, the Lions were more or a threat. He’d focus on Tywin and Cersei- the Baratheon brothers would come afterward.

„What do we know of this supposed Targaryen?“ growled out Tywin Lannister. He’d been called to the city by ’King’ Joffrey not long after Eddard Stark had left and had been appointed the new Hand. Kevan Lannister had taken up the title of Master of Ships, as Stannis had left.

Varys hummed, wondering how much to divulge, without giving away his true loyalties or creating a setback for the True King. „It is rumored, that Eddard Stark had brought the exiled Targaryens back to Westeros and that they had reunited.“

„Last I heard,“ Littlefinger injected, „they were planning to set out for Bitterbridge, to make an alliance with the Tyrells.“

Varys’ hands itched to choke the annoying bastard. _’I’d have to do something about Littlefinger. He cannot be trusted. I will not have someone like him around when the Targaryens arrive.’_

„Is there a chance for such an alliance?“ demanded Cersei Lannister, her green eyes flashing.

„Unlikely.“ Tywin said calmly. „The boy, even if he’s truly Targaryen, has nothing to offer and he would have to get trough our host first. Jaime is leading them, remember that.“

„He could offer marriage.“ Pycelle said, awake for once. Wasn’t that a surprise? „The Tyrells had long wanted the crown. If he offers to make Margery Tyrell his queen, they will accept without hesitation.“

„We’ve to do something.“ Cersei hissed. „They are a threat- the Tyrells had been Loyalists for a long time.“

„Nothing to fear.“ Littlefinger said flippantly.

„And why would you say that?“ demanded Kevan Lannister. „They _do_ seem a threat.“

„That so-called son of Rhaegar plans to marry Rhaenys and Daenerys, to solidify Dorne’s support. He will have nothing to offer for the Tyrells. Nothing that they would accept.“

Varys was determined he’d find a way to get rid of Littlefinger. The annoying little upstart of a Lord was too dangerous to be left alive. He wondered if he could ask some of his contacts for Tears of Lys...

First things first though, he’d have to send a message to the Riverlands about this. Stannis and Renly declaring themselves kings was bad enough. The Lions knowing about the Princess’ was even worse. He’d have to act fast...

Once the meeting was over, he shuffled to his quarters and hastily scribed a message. Once it was done, he sealed it with his personal seal, giving it to one of his older little birds, praying the message would reach its destination before more chaos was sowed.

* * *

**Jaime VII**

The fighting had been going on for some time, not that his heart was in it. He didn’t want to harm the Targaryens, after all. (No one had noticed in the chaos, but he had yet to kill a Northman. His sword was bloody from some cuts, but most of the time, he merely tended to knock his opponents out.) He hoped, that the young King had a good head on his shoulders and had trustworthy advisors.

He didn’t want to harm them, yet ironically, he found himself and a band of Lannister bannermen circling Jaehaerys Targaryen. Apparently, the young King had been cut from his men and now, it was one against ten, plus himself.

But, now, more than ever, the white cape on his shoulder- marking him a member of the Kingsguard- felt heavier, than ever before. Here was the man, who he was supposed to protect, on the other side of a frontline.

Two men charged in and Jaehaerys met them with ease, steel glinting in his eyes, so much like Rhaegar’s. He let his horse circle around the fighters, his sword held loosely. Then, two others decided to charge in, obviously happy to play with a child, as they saw it.

There was a swing at Jaehaerys’ side... and Jaime’s instincts kicked in. He spurred his horse forward, his mind echoing with the last words he’d exchanged with Rhaegar before the Prince rode for the Trident.

His white steed arrived in the close proximity and without hesitation, he raised his sword and made one of the men a head shorter. There was a moment of shooked pause from the men, who thought he’d been their commander. He growled, whirling his sword.

„You’d get a dragon over my dead body.“ he said coldly, stabbing another, while Jaehaerys dealt with one to his left.

Seven remained- shooked and wary, as they drew away. Jaehaerys gave him a look. „And what is that? Are my eyes playing tricks on me?“

„I made a promise to Prince Rhaegar.“ he stated. „I intend to keep it, even if I have to go against my family for it.“ his green gaze turned back to the seven, who’d regrouped. „Kingsguard is for life and I’ve sworn myself to House Targaryen first.“

A ghost of a smile appeared on the handsome face. „Prove it, then, Ser.“

Without a further word, Jaime charged at his former subordinates, riding next to the True King. His blood sung with adrenaline- he could not have felt better.

His sword clanged, as it met other steel and he let the fine blade sail through the air, blocking several strikes, before felling another of the men. Without waiting for the now dead man to slide from his saddle, he turned to the next ones. They attacked in a pair from the side, hoping to surprise him.

But he wasn’t one of the best swordsmen of the Realm for nothing.

Several minutes later, the bodies of the Lannister bannermen lay in pools of blood, leaving him alone with the young King for a moment. Over the treeline, the fighting was still raging, but for a minute, it was just the two of them.

„Well, to me it seems, you meant your words.“ the King stated. „I know from my uncle, that you’ve helped him in several ways, while he was Hand.“

Jaime shrugged. „A reluctant alliance, I will admit, he’d been the one to condemn me to the moniker of _Kingslayer_, after all. But the promise I made to your father years ago, holds more weight, than the grudge I have against Stark.“

The King just smiled and Jaime didn’t know what to make of it. Suddenly, something swooped down and he needed all his strength to keep his horse where it was. In front of them, was one of the three dragons he’d seen earlier in the fight, burning the camp and cutting of the host’s resources.

It was massive and its black colour reminded Jaime of the stories of the Black Dread. The same colour as this one and the largest of the Conquerors’ three dragons, that had brought the Kingdoms to heel. Its eyes seemed to burn with fire and Jaime had a feeling that the beast saw right through him and into his soul. He couldn’t help the shiver, that went down his spine.

The dragon showed off its massive, black teeth, huffing out air, that threatened to sheer his skin and made the metal of his armour feel uncomfortable. It growled, leaning closer and Jaime carefully made his horse back away. The poor animal was scared out of its wits and would have wanted to flee, but the firm hold he had, would not allow such a thing. (How come, that they were not being approached by men? Had no one seen the dragon land?)

Then, the dragon opened its wings and with a massive leap, was back in the air, heading for the armies yet again. Jaime, still trembling under his armour, looked at the Targaryen next to him, who looked surprised and pleased all the same.

„Rhaeddar seems to trust you. Do not give him, or his siblings, a reason to burn you. Now, would you like to accompany me to Riverrun? I think, we would still have some fighting to do on the way, but I believe you would have my back, like now.“ he steered his horse into movement, but Jaime could only watch mutely. „Or... I am mistaken, Young Lion?“

Jaime stiffened. That was the moniker the Kingsguard had given him in the early days, before the Rebellion. And the True King- _Rhaegar’s heir_\- was showing him trust, by calling him that again. He was actually trusting him, to have his back and protect him, as a Kingsguard should.

_’This is my chance.’_ he thought, hope sparking in him yet again. It had happened many times, ever since Varys had first brought the news of Targaryens to him. But now, _now_, that hope seemed even brighter, than before.

He smiled a little, kicking his horse forward. „Lead the way, My King.“

Jaehaerys gave him a satisfied grin before moving again. Jaime followed right at his heels, determined to see the Targaryen return to Riverrrun safe, without a scratch. After all, he was a Kingsguard and he was supposed to protect the King.

He didn’t even care what would be waiting at him there- the Lords and knights could say whatever they wanted. Jaehaerys had accepted him and that was all, that mattered to him.

_’Do you remember my promise, Prince Rhaegar?’_ he asked quietly, in his mind, glancing at the sky for a moment. _’I will keep it. They will be safe.’_


	30. Interlude: The Red Viper

Oberyn Martell eyed the letter with great interest. It was sealed with white wax and showed the snarling direwolf of House Stark. But, at this point, it might as well have been a letter from his adopted nephew, Jaehaerys. He supposed the young lad had good enough head on his shoulders to try and avoid using his House seal for now, as much, as possible.

Doran gave him a look. „Open it and read it already. We will not be any younger, if you keep staring at it.“ he snapped.

Around them, their family chuckled and giggled at the comment. His daughters and Ellaria stood to the left, while Ariane, Quentyn and Trystane stood right behind Doran. He broke the seal with a shrug. Jaehaerys’ writing was flowing and elegant, exactly how Rhaegar’s used to be if his memories were correct.

** _Dear Uncle Oberyn,_ **

** _I am writing with great joy. Rhaenys and Daenerys have arrived safely from Pentos, under the watchful gaze of Uncle Eddard and the loyal members of House Velaryon. We are dealing with the Lannisters around the Riverlands for now, but by the time this letter reaches you, we will be heading for Bitterbridge, to get the Tyrells on our side._ **

** _Uncle Oberyn, we would be delighted to see you once more. Mayhap you could bring Prince Trystane as well, so he could meet Arya?_ **

** _We hope to see you soon. Please convey our best wishes to all your family._ **

** _Best wishes,_ **

** _King Jaehaerys and Queen Rhaenys of House Targaryen_ **

Oberyn’s grin could have split his face, as he read the letter out loud to his family. As he looked up and placed the letter on the desk he could feel the excited energy coursing trough him. „So... meet them, shall I?“

„Did... he actually call you ’uncle’?“ asked Ariane, obviously surprised. Oberyn shrugged his shoulders.

„Elia saw him, as her child. He’s Rhaenys’ brother and so, in my books, he’s family. And by the way that letter was signed, he might as well be marrying Rhaenys soon, which would, without a doubt, make him family.“

Doran nodded, seemingly pleased. „So Rhaenys will be Queen, then?“

Oberyn nodded. „He seemed most determined to have his way and marry both Rhaenys and Daenerys. With three dragons at his back, I’ve no doubt he’ll have a bit more luck doing it than Rhaegar. No man in their right mind would want to get cooked or burned.“

Doran’s smile set Oberyn in even higher mood. „So we shall aid King Jaehaerys.“ he turned to Trystane. „I would not force marriage, son, but it would certainly cement the alliance of Dorne and the North if you married the daughter of the Warden of the North. Cousin to our soon-to-be-King, on the top of it. Dorne and the North would be the pillars of the Iron Throne, with the Riverlands coming in, as a second.“

Trystane seemed to think for a moment, before nodding. „Alright, father.“

Oberyn grinned. „Do charm the little warrior. When I made the deal, King Jaehaerys seemed most protective of Arya Stark. He is as close to her, as to a sibling. If she is unhappy, the King himself will call it off. It would be quite a loss if it happened. We gained a fortune from dealing with the North all these years.“

Trystane’s eyes flashed. „I’ll try my best.“ Oberyn nodded. He was sure Trystane spoke true.

Soon, Martell, Targaryen and Stark would be of one blood and the Realm would be at peace under them. Soon, the Lannisters and Baratheons would pay the debt of blood they owed, for killing Elia and Aegon. (Even if Aegon was not a Martell by blood. Elia and Rhaegar had adopted him and thus, he’d been family.)

Soon, their revenge will be complete.

_’Unbowed. Unbent. Unbroken.’_


	31. Arthur V & Rhaenys V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, but it is the transition between the fight and the Targs meeting the Tyrell bannermen before escorted to Highgarden.

**Arthur V**

Seeing Jaime, of all peole ride behind the King, was beyond shooking. Of course, Ned had told them how Jaime had helped him and told him Cersei’s secrets. The Lannister had even made sure Cregan’s presence was not known to the court. He’d helped Ned and according to the Stark _Prince_\- gods, he’ll need some time to get used to that new title- had helped Varys as well, while the Princess’ were still in exile.

Despite killing Aerys, Jaime at heart, was still a Loyalist. It seemed, that for one reason or another, both Ned and the King were vouching for him. He had a feeling there was something behind Aerys’ death, that he was not aware of, but uncle and nephew knew. Whatever they knew, it made them trust Jaime. He was curius of course, but if Jaehaerys and Ned chose to see Jaime as an ally, who was he to question the King and his Hand?

As Jaehaerys’ horse stopped in front of them, the loud jeereing of the army quieted down. The men were confused, why Jaime was there, behind the King. He had a feeling most of them would have wanted the _Kingslayer_ in chains.

Once the shook of seeing Jaime subsided and was replaced by worry. One minute he’d been riding next to his friends’ son, the next he was alone in the chaos. However, it seemed, he wasn’t the only one, who’d been worried.

„Are you alright? What happened?“ the worried questions from Benjen and Princess (Queen?) Rhaenys merged into one.

„I’m completely fine, sister, uncle.“ he answered dismissively. „The dragons were nearby and Jaime had helped out, before it could get out of hand enough for me to call for Rhaeddar.“

„That would have set the entire patch of trees aflame.“ Jaime muttered from behind the King.

Jaehaerys looked back at the Lannister. „What is made of fire, does not burn.“ he answered simply. „It would have set the patch aflame, would have killed the men and the horses, but I could have gotten out relatively unharmed. Maybe singed from my armour... but since Valyrian Steel had been forged with dragonflame, it might not have done anything at all.“

Abore them, one of the dragons screeched. Jaime glanced up, before looking back at Jaehaerys. „What of Aerion Brightflame? Correct me if I’m wrong, but he died of fire.“

„_Wildfire_.“ Jaehaerys said. „That’s different. Wildfire’s power is based in sorcerey. Whatever that sorcerey is, the magic in our blood cannot combat it. Hence why he burned to death.“ he turned back and looked at them. „They made a hasty retreat, but they might try to retialiate.“

Ned hummed. „Maybe we should leave a part of the Tully forces here to defence?“

Jaehaerys nodded. „I was planning to do that, but maybe we will have to leave a bigger part of the forces here, than I had first thought.“ he sighed. „But first, let us rest, the rest of the discussions are to be held later.“

They nodded, tough Arthur coudn’t help throwing looks at his former sworn brother and squire. The King caught his gaze and nodded. „Jaime’s case will be adressed later as well. Uncle, have his sword taken, but have him in the guest chambers with a guard. He saved my life, but I’d rather be caotious.“

Arthur nodded at his thoughtfullness, tough he saw Jaime wince a little. With each passing moment, he was more curious. The King, as if sensing the shift in Jaime, looked at him.

„My apologies, Ser, but a trial must be held. I cannot let you wander about without the men knowing everything. They would try harming you. The guard is as much for your safety, as it is for others’.“

Arthur almost smiled. Like father, like son. Much like Rhaegar, Jaehaerys too, had a way with words, that prompted people to follow and even those, who were under suspicion, went along with everything.

Jaime nodded. „I understand. But in that case...“ he reached for his sword belt and Arthur stiffened, hand twitching for the hilt of _Dawn_. Jaime, much to his surprise, didn’t unseath the blade, but rather unstraped the belt and gave the weapon to the King, still seathed.

„It’s not our ancestral blade, but the sword itself has a sentimental value for me. If I will have to go without it, so be it, but I would ask you to keep it for me, Your Grace.“

Arthur raised an eyebrow. What sort of sentimental value? Of course, he recalled, that Jaime had been using the blade even in his days, as Aerys’ guard, so it was rather worn... but he’d never thought it had any value other than the gold covering it. (And he definitely hadn’t taken Jaime for a sentimental person.)

Jaehaerys nodded and took the blade. „I will keep it for you.“

* * *

**Rhaenys V**

When her brother made it back from the fighting without a single wound, she gave her thanks to all known gods. He was tired, sweaty and covered in enemy blood, but she didn’t care. Tough she would have liked to hug him and not allow him to leave their presence for the next three days, Dany convinved her to let Jae breath.

So she shooed her brother off with his squire on his heels, calling for the servants to draw a hot bath for him.

Hours later, after he was done with dealing with the reports and a long war coucil to plan their next possible moves, they sat in their shared chambers, enjoying their hot meal.

„I’ve heard, that you returned to Riverrun with the Kingslayer on your side.“ Dany remarked, after sallowing a bite.

„Don’t call him that, Daenerys.“ he said. His voice was gentle and quiet, but there was an underlying warning as well. „You know not, why had he done, what he had done.“

„Was there a particular reason, other than killing half of my family?“ Dany asked, shooking even her. Rhaenys had never heard her aunt/sister sound so fierce and dare she say it (?), _bitter_ before.

„As shooking, as it might be for you, he had a reason.“ Jaehaerys anwered, his tone even, eyes burning. „If you would stop glaring, I would even share it, for he had told me.“

That seemed to work and Dany deflated a bit. „Apologies.“

Jaehaerys sighed, seeming even more tired, than when he’d arrived, hours ago. He swallowed another bite of his food, before starting the story, that apparently, Jaime himself had told him in the Godswood of Winterfell near a year ago. By the time Jae was finished, Rhaenys understood just how mad their grandfather was. Daenerys’ face was a mix of disbelief, shock, and disgust.

„So he broke a vow to save the Realm.“ Dany muttered.

Jae nodded. „So it seems. A part of me is grateful, otherwise, we might not even have an Iron Throne to attempt taking. Another wonders just how much we can actually trust him. He seems trustworthy... but in these games of lies, I can’t decide if he’s telling the truth or if he lies as much, as other Lannisters.“

Rhaenys understood her brother’s dilemma well. She wondered the same thing, after all. „Maybe, that trial would be a good idea. Let him tell his story and decide afterward. With only small things, his motivations are questionable at best. But if he tells his whole story, maybe we can understand why he would help us.“

Jaehaerys seemed thoughtful for a moment before a grin split his face. „Wonderful idea, sister.“

Rhaenys blushed a bit, seeing the handsome grin. Not for the first time, she was grateful for her darker skin tone- it hid her blushes well. Still Jae sensed something in her, as his grin widened, pushing aside his plate. Once it was out of the way, he leaned over the desk and grabbed her wrist.

She gasped in shock at the sudden contact and he used that moment to kiss her, taking her by surprise even more. The kiss was fierce, yet gentle, full of love. Once he pulled away, his dark eyes glimmered. She was sure, that her blush was deep enough to be seen now, regardless of her olive skin.

„You’re sharp, Rhae and that’s what I love in you.“


	32. Eddard VIII & Theon I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure about this one, but one way or another, the Ironborn will have to be involved...

**Eddard VIII**

After the trial of Jaime Lannister-which, after a long debate ended with a royal pardon and Jaime’s admittance into the Targaryen Kingsguard,- the Targaryen army moved towards Highgarden. He didn’t like the Tyrells, but the force they commanded was massive and it would serve their cause well.

He was a bit skeptical, of course, with the mess the Realm seemed to be in.

Renly Baratheon had proclaimed himself King in the Stormlands and the vassals of House Baratheon all flocked to him and now, he was heading to Highgarden as well, to get the Tyrells. Ned wasn’t fond of the idea of a confrontation, but it would have to be done sometime.

It seemed, that the Lords of the Narrow Sea had gotten wind of the living dragons and with the lead of Lord Velaryon, they had captured Stannis Baratheon and rumors said, that Dragonstone now flew the three-headed dragon. Tough, while Stannis had been captured, many knights and Lords loyal to him had fled the island and had instead joined Renly.

Balon Greyjoy had named himself the King of the Iron Isles as well, earlier, just like Renly. However, so far the Kraken had been idle on his island. Now though, he was attacking the North, which didn’t bode well. Luckily, the fleet held them off, but Ned was worried still. The Greyjoys were masters of sea warfare and now, the greater part of the North’s forces was here. (They could not allow this war to turn into multi-front fighting. If it did, it will cost more and it might last longer. The key for the Targaryens was speed. The faster this was, the safer it was.)

If they didn’t do something fast, the Greyjoys will be a problem very soon. Actually... they had let Theon go, to treat with his father, but Ned had a sinking feeling about it. Despite his protests, tough, Jaehaerys had allowed Theon to go and given him a letter. Jaehaerys had said he’d deal with the Ironborn according to what Lord Greyjoy answered to his letter.

After what seemed like forever, they met the forces of the Reach camping out, waiting for them. Well, not exactly the complete force of the Reach- only Houe Tarly of Hornhill and a few smaller Houses under them. That eased Ned’s mind. Randyll Tarly was a man of the military, he would not try hiding his intentions behind half-truths.

He rode next to his nephew on the right, as his Hand, while Rhaenys and Daenerys- who had officially been named his Queens- rode on his left. There was no time to celebrate weddings, but neither of them seemed to mind all that much. (It had been a surprise when Rhaenys chose to wed in front of the Heart Tree and the Old Gods. He would have thought, that she’d chose the Seven, as a Dornish.)

„King Jaehaerys, an honor to meet you.“ greeted the Tarly Lord. „My name is Randyl Tarly and we’ve been asked by Lord Tyrell to escort you to Bitterbridge.“

„The honor is mine, Lord Tarly.“

„Please follow me, I would like to discuss something.“

Ned blinked. That was unexpected. He shared a look with his nephew, before dismounting. Jaehaerys helped Daenerys down, while Ned himself helped Rhaenys. Once they were all dismounted, they hurriedly followed Lord Tarly to his tent.

Inside it was the bare minimum, that one needed on the road while fighting. Tarly offered them seats and they took it.

„What is that you would have liked to discuss, Lord Tarly?“ Ned asked with slight interest.

The Tarly ord sat down and looked at them in the eyes. „If I’m correct, you are seeking an alliance with House Tyrell.“

Jaehaerys raised an eyebrow. „You could say. But is it truly an alliance, when I wish bastards removed from my Throne and I am asking for the help of the Lords, for the general betterment of our Realm? House Tyrell owes everything to us and now, I would ask for them to pay my ancestors’ generosity back in kind. However, I would also have a good offer for them, if they decide to join me.“

Randyl nodded. „Of that, I am aware and I will help, where I can, Your Grace. But I must warn you. Lord Mace is as grasping, as Tywin. Lady Olenna and Lord Wyllas wish for a strong, bright future for their House, but Lord Mace does not share the views, in which it can be reached. He’s worried about _offending_ Tywin.“

Ned hid a smile. The tone Lord Randyl used, made it clear he had no love for the Old Lion.

„So you are saying, he might back off?“

Tarly nodded slowly. „Possible. But if you show him strength, he will bend and support you. Lady Olenna is a realist. Seeing your current numbers and the three dragons, you have a great chance of winning. And I’ve no doubt, that they know of how you dealt with Lord Frey and how the Lannister host had been held back at Riverrun.“

Jaehaerys nodded. „Thank you for your words, I will keep them in mind. Anything else, that might be of importance?“

Tarly shook his head. „No... other than the rumors of Dorne moving. Some say they are headed for Highgarden and that seemed to unsettle Lord Tyrell.“

Jaehaerys smiled. „The Dornish are riding under my sister’s banner, My Lord. I’ve no doubt, if we make it there in time, any problems between Lord Tyrell and Prince Oberyn will be diffused before it even starts.“

Tarly gave a small nod. „I do hope, Your Grace.“

* * *

**Theon I**

The sea air was cold and heavy with salt. He hadn’t smelt the sea in years. Aboard the _Willful Wolf –_ one of the fastest ships of the Stark fleet, or as called by the rest of the Kingdoms, the _’Wolf Fleet’_\- he felt at home, more than ever. And now, he was a mere hour away from Pyke. He’d been asked by the King to deliver the letter to his father.

_’King.’_ he mused absently, still shooked and amused all the same after all these moons.

Jon Snow, the supposed bastard, had never been a bastard. It had been a blow, but now, he could see the King in the so-called bastard. He was honorable, like Eddard Stark, but there was more to him too. At first, after finding out who he was, he’d taken Jon for a madman, for trying to rouse the northerners into helping him get the Throne.

For all he knew, the North had never cared. But after they rose for him, Theon had to stop, take a few steps back and re-evaluate everything he’d known about Jon. In the span of a few moons, the ’Bastard of Winterfell’ was gone completely, replaced by a Targaryen. One who was brave (or mad) enough to ride those hellspawn he called his children.

After winning that skirmish with the Lannisters, Theon glimpsed some power beneath the sullen silence, he had not seen before and he started to truly respect Jon. Theon had thought that Jon had never liked him, yet now, the Targaryen was trusting him to bring the Ironborn to his side. That was a great shook and somewhat endearing even.

(Not to mention, Jon had told him, once this mess with the Lannisters was over, he could go back to Pyke, for anything Robert had condemned him to, would be invalid.)

„Land!“ the captain called- some northerner Theon didn’t bother to remember. Looking ahead, he saw the desolate soils of Pyke. While life here was hard, it made him- and all the Ironborn- into what they were. Though sometimes, he wondered if he even belonged here, after such a long absence.

He waited patiently, until the ship docked, enjoying the sea air and the smell of home. For it smelled of home. He was finally home.

The moment he set foot on the island, his uncle, Auron ’Damphair’ greeted him. „Theon, welcome home.“

He nodded in greeting. „Uncle.“

The man eyed him as if he wasn’t even a Greyjoy, but some greenlander. „Why aboard a northern ship?“

He could sense the wariness of his uncle. Ah, for the ironborn, the Starks will always be half-frozen greenlanders._ ’Maybe they hadn’t been properly informed of their fleet’s size? But no... there had been raids...’_

He matched the man’s gaze. „I wish to speak with my father. I bring a letter from the King.“ he said, showing the tiny scroll.

Auron raised an eyebrow. „The Targaryen bastard?“

„Trueborn.“ he said matter-of-factly. „With three dragons. Now, can I speak with my father?“

His uncle didn’t say anything, only gestured for him to follow. With a tiny sigh, Theon did. He hoped his father would agree to the Targaryens’ terms. Their life would be quite hard if those three dragons burned all the ships docking nearby...


	33. Sansa & Theon II

**Sansa**

The feast in Highgarden could be compared to nothing she’d experienced before. Of course, she’d attended many feasts in Winterfell and even numerous ones at Riverrun, but those seemed small, compared to _this_ splendor.

Her lady mother was conversing with Lady Olenna and the Queens. (It was still strange to think, that they were both married to her cousin, not to mention, that both of them were so closely related to him.) Her lord father was speaking with Lord Tarly and Uncle Benjen.

Sitting next to Lady Margery had proved wonderful too- she was quick-witted and told her stories she’d never heard before. Lord Willas has also proved to be a wonderful and knowledgable man. She would have thought, that his injury hindered him in enjoying life, but she’d been wrong.

„And tell me, Lady Sansa...“ Lord Willas started again, when seemingly from nowhere, her cousin materialised.

Namely, the eldest of her cousins, Jon.

„Your Grace.“ the Tyrells muttered, dipping their heads.

„Lady Margery, Lord Willas, Ser Garlan.“ Jon- she still had trouble thinking of him as _Jaehaerys_, despite that name being his true one,- looked at her with those piercing violet eyes. „May I borrow my cousin for a little? I shall bring her back in a few minutes.“

Lady Margery gave a charming smile. „Of course, Your Grace.“

Sansa stood up and Jon dipped his head towards the door. Sansa nodded, though she felt confused. Why would Jon ask her to leave? (Being around him still made her nervous. She’d never been outright _mean_ to him, but she didn’t act like family either and that made her feel guilty. She should have listened to her father, when he said, that it was the Stark blood that made the family and not the name.)

Once they were out of the hall, he offered his arm and she took it without a word. They walked for a long while until reaching the garden. The silence around them had been heavy and it was growing worse with every passing second.

She steeled herself and decided to say all, that had been bothering her, since meeting him at Riverrun after months of separation. „Jon- I.. I mean, Jaehaerys...“

„Sansa...“ They both stopped gazing at each other- bright blue on deep violet. „Continue, sister.“ he said, voice like velvet.

Sansa’s heart squeezed. She’d never been particularly _kind_ to him- no sisterly bond at all, he was much closer to Arya-, yet he was calling her sister, while his _real_ sister was inside the hall. She bit her bottom lip and swallowed.

„I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being so mean to you all this time. I should have...“ her voice cracked at the end.

„It’s alright, Sansa. I don’t blame you.“ he said, tilting her chin, so their eyes met again. „We’re family.“

„I should have listened to father.“ she said. „When the snows fall and winter comes, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.“ she said, recalling her father’s words. „You don’t have the Stark name- never had and never would, but you’re family. I should have treated you, like a brother. I listened to Theon and Joffrey...“

„It’s alright, Sansa, I forgive you.“

At those words, a tear rolled down her face and she wrapped her arms around him in a strong hug. „You’ll always be my brother. From now on forever.“

„And you’re as much my sister as, Rhae, Dany and Arya are.“ he said, hugging her back. For a moment, they stayed like that, enjoying the silence and embracing each other, before Sansa pulled away and wiped the lone tear from her cheek.

„So, why have you called me out here, Your Grace?“ she asked with a smile, feeling a bit better.

He rolled his eyes. „We’re family. Don’t call me that in private. I just wanted to ask what do you think of Lord Willas.“

Sansa shrugged. „Intelligent and courteous. Handsome too. Despite his bad leg, the Lady who’d be his wife will be very lucky, I think. He would take care of her and being the Lady of Highgarden is not bad either.“

Jon seemed pleased with every word she spoke and by the end, he was grinning at her toothily- quite the uncommon sight to anyone, who knew Jon personally. „And what would you say, _Princess_ _Sansa_...“

Her heart fluttered. She’d always wanted to be a Princess and now she was, for being born a Stark, thanks to Jon. (Of course, she knew it was probably Jon’s way of thanking her father for keeping him safe from the Lannisters, but the result was something she was glad for.)

„... if I told you, _you_ would be that lucky Lady?“

Her breath caught in her throat. „Wh-what?“

The smile was gone then, replaced by kingly seriousness. „I still need allies, Sansa and the Tyrells command a massive force. Plus, winter would be here soon and Highgarden is the breadbasket of the Realm. We need supplies. Your parents agreed, that it would be a good match. You and Lord Willas. But I told them, that while I need the alliance, I would not force you to wed, for I myself had wed out of love...“

_Wed_.

She would be wedding Lord Willas- or at least, that was what her family had planned for. After leaving King’s Landing and her betrothal to Joffrey called off, she had been afraid she would never find anyone, nor would she have a crown. Now, she had a crown of her own right and Jon was saying she could marry if she wanted.

„If you do not wish, Uncle Ned could still find you a Northern Lord or a Tully bannerman to...“ She shook her head and Jon fell silent.

The night had been long and the more time she spent around the Tyrells, the better she felt. Wyllas was kind even if a relative stranger for now. She could learn to love him, despite him not being the knight in shining armour she’d always dreamed of, after hearing the songs.

Plus, it would be good for her family too, she knew that. Jon would need the army and later, the North might need the supplies for winter...

She looked at Jon with a steely gaze, a tiny smile on her lips. „I wouldn’t mind marrying Lord Willas at all, Jon...“

He smiled back and kissed her Tully-red hair. Then he took her arm again and led her back into the hall, to continue the feast. She sat back between Margery and Willas with a smile on her face.

* * *

**Theon II**

The great hall of Pyke seemed foreign after so many years spent in the North and Winterfell. Even the smell of stale sea air seemed foreign. He could barely recall the day he’d been taken away by Lord Stark after his father’s rebellion against Robert had failed.

He could barely recognise his father, even. Balon Greyjoy seemed much older than his years away from Pyke. His sister, Asha had changed as well and the way she stood next to their father’s chair... That spot was for the Heir of the Islands. _Was he not the Heir?_

„Theon.“ his father greeted, his voice flat. Theon’s stomach churned. He’d been greeted, like a stranger, not like a son of the Iron Islands finally coming home.

He swallowed and bowed his head in greeting. „Father.“

„What brings you to our shores? That fat, no good King had forbidden you from coming back. Would you wish us all dead?“

Theon shook his head. „Robert is dead. The true King had allowed me to come here. He wishes for an alliance with House Greyjoy.“ he stated simply, showing the scroll penned by his foster brother (for as reluctant Theon was to admit, Jon had become a brother), sealed with white wax and the three-headed dragon.

His father raised an eyebrow at the letter and nodded at Asha. Asha moved from her spot without a word and strode over to him, taking the scroll and hurrying back to their father with it. The Lord grabbed the letter and Theon could see, as his eyebrows went up at the sight of the Targaryen seal.

Then, he broke it unceremoniously and unfurled the parchment to read the message. Theon himself didn’t know what was written in it, but he had a good idea.

A few minutes passed, then his father started laughing.

„That’s some impostor. All the Targaryens are dead.“ he said, lowering the letter into his lap.

Theon shook his head. „I’ve seen his dragons.“

His father blinked. „Dragons?“

He nodded. „Three massive dragons. And I’ve seen the two women brought by Lord Stark to Riverrun. The three of them mounted the beasts like one mounts a horse and the dragons follow their commands.“

„And why would I help him? The Iron Throne is no concern of mine. The Ironborn had only answered to the throne, which seated a Greyjoy.“

Theon’s jaw went slack. His father had been put down the last time he declared the Iron Islands independent from the Iron Throne. It was the reason he’d been sent to Winterfell. Was his father trying to do the same thing again, in the chaos of war between Lannisters and Targaryens?

_’No. He wouldn’t risk his peoples’ death.’_ he told himself.

„Consider it, at least.“ he said simply. „I’ve seen the destruction wrought by those dragons. Consider his offer, is all I ask.“

His father gave him a cross look before he waved a hand. „ I’ll think about it. Now leave.“ he basked, Frowning, Theon did just that. The Drowned God have mercy on the soul of innocents. He hoped his father made the right decision.


	34. Catelyn  V & The Spider III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while since I uploaded anything, despite having written this a good while ago. But the school had other ideas and I hadn't even sat in front of my laptop for a week. Anyway, hope this will be good :3

**Catelyn V**

She would have never thought to see Sansa getting married. Yet, they stood in the Sept of Highgarden- after days of preparations and negotiations-, with the Septon standing right there. Willas was already waiting there and Sansa, garbed in white, her red hair like a flame, was being led by Jaehaerys.

She’d been surprised when Sansa had asked to be led there by her cousin. She’d never been on the best of terms with him, that much Catelyn knew. But now... days after the welcoming feast, everything seemed to be perfect, as if they never had any problems at all. She’d seen her nephew leave with Sansa during the feast and she guessed that they had a talk, tough neither had disclosed the topic of their conversation- not even to Arya or Naerya, which was a shook. Arya and Jaehaerys were near inseparable and the same could be said about Sansa and Naerya.

She was glad though. Now that the Targaryens were here and Ned was safe from being executed, everything seemed to be working out for the best. Sansa was marrying Willas, which secured the Tyrell compliance and soon, the Dornish would be here as well.

Thinking of the Dornish caused a small smile to form on her lips. She wondered how will Ned tell Arya, the wild little wolf, that she was to marry.

Catelyn smiled, as she saw Willas covering Sansa in the green cloak of House Tyrell. The newlyweds turned towards the crowd and everyone applauded for them, as the Septon announced they were ow husband and wife.

Sansa smiled kindly at Willas, before beaming at the crowd. _’Yes.’_ she thought approvingly. _’Sansa will have a good life with the Tyrells. Not to mention, that this placated their power-hunger as well. Sansa is, after all a Princess and a cousin, raised as a sister, to the True King.’_

She watched as one of the young Tyrell girls bound over to Sansa and offered her a wreath of colorful flowers. Smiling brightly, Sana bent down and allowed the flowers to be placed on the top of her head.

„Now, seems the Princess of the North has a southron crown.“ called Ser Loras, causing a round of cheering and laughter.

With this, they were one step closer to a safe and stable Realm.

* * *

**The Spider III**

„WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?“ bellowed a very pissed off Cersei Lannister, her green eyes glinting dangerously, as she glared at Pycelle. The rest of the council all recoiled, as she stood up. Only her sick little cub, Joffrey remained unmoving. Tough with each word, his green eyes turned darker and darker.

Varys frowned a little and rubbed his ear. He’d managed to get rid of Baelish and he was glad or it. The bastard could no longer be a danger to the Targaryens. (The annoying little bastard had drunk the Dorinsh Red, full of the Tears of Lys without suspecting anything. He was dead by morning and none were the wiser, that he’d been the facilitator of Littlefinger’s death.)

But while the mockingbird was gone, the annoying old rat, that was Pycelle, took over his role to feed information to Cersei, that Varys himself would have given to the Lannisters in a different way.

„The Targaryen boy had enacted the Pact of Ice and Fire, an old agreement between Starks and Targaryens. This made the Starks into Princes and now, Lord Willas Tyrell had married the eldest Stark, Sansa.“ Pycelle repeated again.

All of the small council were hissing and seething, angry at having lost a potential ally. Varys himself could barely sit still and not smile victoriously. It seemed, the young King knew well how to play this Game. _’How does it feel, lioness?’_ Varys thought gleefully. _’How does it feel to be beaten in your own game by a boy of barely five and ten?’_

„And there’s something else, as well...“ Pycelle said, this time more cautious.

All eyes turned to the grey rat. Varys could tell, that Pycelle wasn’t exactly comfortable with four angry, Lannister-green eyes on him, as Cersei, Joffrey, Tywin and Kevan all silently demanded of him to spit it out.

„What is it?“ growled out Tywin, looking very much like the lion on his House banner.

„Ser Jaime has been seen following the Targaryen, garbed in white.“ Pycelle stated. Almost immediately, the Queen scowled.

„He’s probably just playing along, to stab the mad dragon-rider in the back.“ she said, immediately defending her twin.

„That is not the case, My Queen.“ Varys said quietly. „I’ve kept tabs on him and I did not wish to tell you, hoping for the same thing you’ve just mentioned.“

The blonde woman leaned forward as if Varys had just offered her a treat. _’You think you can play the Game, lioness, when you drink my words, like honey wine.’ _„Why did he not do it yet, then?“ she demanded.

_’Because he’s loyal to the one True King this Realm needs before winter arrives. If winter catches us like this, the smallfolk will starve even south of the Neck!’_ Varys growled inwardly. _’I shudder to think what the Northmen will face in the dead of winter.’_

„It seems Your Grace that he had switched sides. My little birds had reported, that he’d killed several Lannister men in the defense of the Targaryen during the skirmish. And recently, Ser Jaime had helped the Sword of the Morning defend the Targaryens from the cutthroat Baelish had sent before his death.“

Silence, akin to one in a crypt descended on the council room.

„Are you saying my uncle sided with the sisterfucker?“ sneered Joffrey.

Varys nodded. „He sided with them indeed.“

The disbelieving look on their faces was worth more than all the gold Casterly Rock could hope to offer. Varys counted himself truly lucky to see that look on all faces- tough the most memorable look was definitely Tywin’s.

The grasping bastard had truly lost his golden son now.

Varys had been glad when Aerys had appointed the boy as a Kingsguard. Jaime had Lady Joanna’s heart and the cruelty of Tywin would have done great damage to him. Not that being a Kingsguard had treated him well... but it was still more preferable to the alternative of the lad growing up in the complete influence of Tywin.

It seemed tough, that Jaime still had his honor, despite the Realm calling him an Oathbreaker – as if Aerys deserved any loyalty- and had finally joined the King. Varys was glad. When he’d first gotten help from the Kingslayer he’d been worried his plan had been for naught. Only to find Jaime helping him, instead of selling him out to Robert.

_’And now, he’s where he belongs. With the King.’_

He shook his head and focused, only to find that the meeting had gone to shit with the knowledge of Jaime’s true loyalties out. The Lannisters just kept shouting between themselves, effectively ignoring anyone else.

Varys leaned against the back of his chair and watched the chaos unfold, grinning on the inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, leave comments and tell me what do you think


	35. Interlude: The Imp

Tyrion Lannister’s life had gone to shit very quickly.

He didn’t like King’s Landing at all and he outright despised his fool of a good brother. Not that the Realm was any better off with Joffrey, as its King, after Robert’s death. Still, he knew things and he could calculate, because the board had been set and he knew the rules of the Game, much better, than most. Now, it all had gone to shit.

There were three Targaryens alive, united with three dragons at their beck and call.

The Riverlands and the North rose in their support immediately. (And since Rhaenys was alive- and considering the alliance, the North and Dorne had- the Dornish would soon follow.)

Stannis had been captured and Dragonstone had been cut off, likely to aid the Targaryens the moment they were near King’s Landing, courtesy of House Velaryon. In hindsight, Robert had every reason to be mistrustful with the bannermen of Dragonstone... Not that they could allow wasting men and resources, trying to secure the island. Not now, when the Targaryens had control of the Realm’s breadbasket.

A Stark had married a Tyrell bringing them into the fold.

And Jaime had been sighted with the Targaryens, as the personal Kingsguard of one Jaehaerys Targaryen.

Yes, Tyrion decided, if Jaime had willingly joined the Targaryens- and so far, it seemed he had indeed joined _willingly_\- then the world was going to shit.

He needed a drink and a whore, the Seven damn what his father had said about his vices. He rubbed his face, turning toward Cathayaya’s brothel.

_’What’s next? Some sorry fool tells me that the grumpkins and snakrs beyond the Wall actually exist?’_

The world had gone to shit or Jaime had become stark raving mad, from all those hours of standing by and not fucking a woman for years.

For some reason, he would have bet his money on the second option.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments. Comments work like sweets... I'll try uploading faster and As frequently, as possible


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